In Too Far: Volume II
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: Sequel to In Too Far: Volume I. Following Voldemort's downfall, Gwen is growing ever more suspicious of Barty; Sander and Martijn are dragged into the hunt for the Death Eaters; and Peter Pettigrew is looking for revenge.
1. Chapter 1

_**In Too Far: Volume Two**_

**Summary: Sequel to _In Too Far: Volume One. _Following Voldemort's downfall, Gwen is growing ever more suspicious of Barty; Sander and Martijn are dragged into the hunt for the Death Eaters and Peter Pettigrew is looking for revenge.**

**Rating: As it stands, T. Language is likely to be at the same level as part one (i.e. strong and moderately frequent.) There may be more graphic sex and violence to come later on (or in part three!) so I'll change the rating as is necessary.**

**A/N: Picking up directly where we left off.**

**Disclaimer: I own Gwen and her relatives and Sander and his relatives, and as of now that's pretty much it.**

**Part Two, Chapter One**

_"Godric's Hollow."  
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With those two words, the Potter's location was revealed. All the plotting, manipulation, bargaining... it all came down to just four syllables that held the key to all the Death Eaters had strived for.

Voldemort smiled; the cruel, satisfied leer of a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted, and was now savouring the thought of how we would use it. "Thank you, _Wormtail,_" he hissed. "Your service will be rewarded."

After a moment of basking in the anticipation of his victory, Voldemort straightened up and rounded on his Death Eaters to begin giving out orders. Pettigrew was quickly disregarded. "My loyal followers, this is the moment we have been waiting for. We cannot allow time for the Potters become aware of this treachery: we must make our move now. Bellatrix, Rabastan, Lestrange, Rookwood, you will accompany me to Godric's Hollow. The aurors will no doubt be on us very quickly after the attack and I'll need my best nearby. Avery, Yaxley, Crabbe, Snape – where is Snape? Of all of you, Snape should be here. His absence will be punished – Goyle, you instead. I want you on standby. If the Potters are under guard I may need additional forces. Wormtail, you will show us exactly where they are. The rest of you, wait here for my return. For when we do come back, we shall celebrate our greatest victory of the war!" And with that he grabbed Wormtail by the shoulder and disapparated in a swirl of black mist, followed soon after by the Death Eaters he had named.

Barty looked round at the eight or so Death Eaters remaining standing in the hall and scowled bitterly – something which Lucius Malfoy seemed to notice. "What is it, Crouch?"

"Why not me? Why couldn't I go with him, since you're all so desperate for me to prove my loyalty?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, boy, you don't have the necessary experience."

Barty remained scowling while he voiced the other thing that irked him, "And how come he gets a new name?"

The elder Death Eater seemed rather irritated by his complaining. "What?"

"How come I get stuck with the exact same stupid name as my father but he gets to choose something else to be known by? How is that fair?"

Malfoy smirked. "Because your father, boy, isn't so much one of the Dark Lord's enemies, just a minor annoyance."

Barty glared at him. He didn't like his father, but thought the man deserved to be known as more than a 'minor annoyance'.

There was a hostile silence between them as the other Death Eaters began milling about the hall, wondering how they were supposed to pass the time during which they weren't needed. After about fifteen minutes, Barty thought he could hear the sound of an infant crying from somewhere in the house, and Malfoy excused himself to go and see to his wife and son. Barty cast a look of disgust at his back as he left the hall – he didn't like children at the best of times, but no doubt any son of Malfoy's was even worse.

Several of the Death Eaters had struck up conversations with each other now, but once again Barty noticed he was being avoided. They still didn't accept him as one of them, and although he resented it he didn't blame them. He hadn't properly managed to fulfill the requirements of the task the Dark Lord had set him, having only managed to provide half of the money, which proved to be redundant anyway. They were no doubt now all suspicious of what had gone on between him and Pettigrew to make Wormtail change his mind. Barty scowled, imagining all the things he'd like to do to Pettigrew for screwing up his chances with the Death Eaters, and began wondering what the rat had wanted the money for in the first place.

After a few more minutes his thoughts began to drift to Gwen, and he worried she might think him uncultured if she knew he was absolutely clueless when it came to the opera they were supposed to be seeing on Saturday. Barty thought he should make the effort to find out more about it, but didn't know who to ask. His mother would probably know, but he didn't want to ask her. Lucius Malfoy would probably know as well, and if Barty were to ask him that would probably annoy him no end. Barty smiled, thinking that was all the more reason for him to ask.

When Malfoy returned to the hall several minutes later Barty was the first to attempt to make conversation with him. "Lucius." Malfoy gave Barty a look of utter contempt for daring to address him by his first name, and Barty felt a wave of satifaction.

"What, Crouch?"

"Are you familiar with the opera _Les Mysteres_?"

Malfoy looked like he couldn't for the life of him work out why he was being asked. "Yes," he replied icily.

"What is it about?"

Malfoy gave him a look that clearly showed his annoyance, but at the same time he couldn't resist answering. Barty knew he was the one Death Eater who liked to consider himself cultured. "It's about a man whose life is being controlled by an esoteric organisation of wizards, and they give him the choice to live as their servant or die as a free man. But he's due to be married to a girl he thinks is the only thing that makes a life of servitude worth living, so when she leaves him for another man he chooses to die."

Barty thought it sounded interesting, but not the kind of thing he would have imagined Gwen liking. "Is it any good?"

Malfoy put on an expression Barty knew he thought made him look like an art critic. "It's decent; not Mickelwal's best. _L'Imperatrice _was far superior."

Barty was about to ask what _L'Imperatrice _was about when they were interrupted by somebody apparating into the hall.

All the other Death Eaters turned quickly to look at their comrade who had just arrived in what was clearly a state of panic. His mask was gone and his hooded robes in a state of disarray, and they could all recognise him as Rookwood. He seemed frightened. "Something's gone wrong."

"What?" The question came urgently from Yaxley.

Rookwood shook his head, "We don't know, but the Dark Lord….he's disappeared, or so it seems. So has Pettigrew. There are aurors swarming over Godric's Hollow and Ministry officials everywhere, we need to get out of here before they send somebody round to contact Malfoy, which they no doubt will do. And we need to find Pettigrew."

At that, near chaos seemed to erupt in the hall as Death Eaters began shouting at each other, demanding to know what was going on. Some disapparated immediately, but were quickly replaced by Bellatrix and Rodolphus returning from Godric's Hollow. Barty noticed Bellatrix looked furious. As Malfoy started up a shouting match with Rookwood as to why he should expect someone to turn up at his house, Barty ran over to her. "Bellatrix!" She turned to look at him, but a manic glare was the only response she gave. "What happened?"

"He's gone," she replied in a voice that seemed slightly crazed, "but we'll find him. You're loyal, aren't you Crouch?"

He nodded quickly. "Then we'll find him. He needs followers like us. Not like these!" she suddenly shouted, gesturing at all the Death Eaters who were yelling at each other and many of whom had already disapparated. "Look at them running scared! Trying to get away! You only care for yourselves, you treacherous little leeches!" she shrieked, and Barty felt rather intimidated by this sudden display of mad rage.

Very quickly though, Rodolphus had moved beside her and grabbed hold of her to calm her down. "Yes, Bella, we will find him," he said with a sense of urgency in his voice, "But first we need to make sure they don't find us. We need to get out of here." Then he turned Barty, "Get back to your father, boy, and lie low for a couple of days. Make sure nobody knows you were gone."

Barty nodded, and immediately after Rodolphus and Bellatrix had disapparated he did the same. He found himself standing in the darkness of his bedroom, which seemed unnaturally quiet in contrast to the hall, and he realised he was shaking. He slowly lowered himself onto his bed and tried to take deep breaths to calm himself from the fear and panic he was feeling. What could possibly have gone wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed or added this story to their alerts list! It's great to know you're all still interested in reading after part one.**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Gwen was woken in the early hours of Wednesday morning by the sound of movement downstairs. At first she thought she might be dreaming, but when she clearly recognised her parents voices and knew they were coming from inside her own house, she dragged herself out of bed and went find out exactly what was happening. As she reached the kitchen doorway she saw her parents standing opposite each other around the table, her mother already dressed for work whereas her father was still in his dressing gown. They appeared to be discussing something with each other urgently.

"Mum? Dad?" Gwen muttered groggily, still half asleep but more than a little curious to find out what was going on.

They both turned to look at her, and despite the fact she was dressed for work Gwen noticed her mother still looked rather tired and dishevelled. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I need to go in to work early. Something's happened."

Gwen was still a little slow in responding, being as she was still partially asleep. Her father, however, was much quicker. "What exactly has happened, Christine?"

"I've told you John, I don't know. Just that it's something urgent involving You-Know-Who."

It suddenly dawned on Gwen that this must be something really important. "What?"

He mother gave her a concerned look. "Try not to worry about it, Gwen, it's best if you two try and get on with your day as normal. I need to get to work, but I'll be in touch as soon as I know what's happening." With that she gave both of them a quick kiss on the cheek and stepped into the fireplace to reach the Ministry.

Gwen turned to look at her father. "Dad? What are we supposed to do now?"

He father gave her a tired sigh. "Like your mother said, we should just try and get on with things as normal. It might be an idea if you went back to bed if you're going to work later."

Gwen shook her head. "I'm not exactly likely to sleep now."

John looked at his daughter with an incredibly tired and weary expression on his face, and Gwen couldn't help but be reminded of her grandfather. It made him seem so old, and she found it disconcerting. She didn't like seeing her father look like that, but then he gave her a warm smile and placed a comforting arm round her shoulders. "No, me neither. Come on," he led her into the living room where they both took a seat on the sofa and waited for the sun to come up.

-oOo-

More explanation as to what had happened came with the morning post. _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Is Gone, _declared the front page of the _Daily Prophet, _accompanied by a picture of a wrecked house that the caption said was the Potters' residence at Godric's Hollow. Gwen read the article over her father's shoulder as she tried to concentrate on eating her toast, but she really wasn't hungry. The Potters were dead, but their son had survived? If the curse had backfired, what did that mean for You-Know-Who? Could he actually be dead?

That seemed to be the main topic of discussion at work later as people speculated on what had happened and what had become of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named. The general consensus was that he must be dead, but there were still some who were sceptical and believed he had managed to survive in one form or another. Gwen wasn't sure what to believe, and despite the fact this news should have been cause for celebration, the whole uncertainty of it meant there was still a strong sense of unease among the wizarding population. Not to mention that it was difficult to celebrate following the brutal murder of a young couple with a one year old son, and Gwen found herself wondering what was going to happen to the boy. Mostly though, she wondered what had happened to his would-be killer.

Semog called everyone on her floor into his office for a meeting about it later. "Look, I don't know what happened," he said in his stern voice, "But neither do you, and it is best we cease speculation on it and try to continue as normal until more information is available. I expect for you to stick to your existing schedules, although you should be prepared for this to have a significant impact on the markets and make sure you respond accordingly." They had all nodded and gone back to their offices, but it was difficult to work with that hanging over their heads. A quick flick through her planner told Gwen she had another meeting with Sander tomorrow, but on this occasion even that wasn't enough to distract her.

When it reached five o' clock, instead of going home Gwen headed upstairs to the seventh floor to meet her father. A man was just leaving his office as she arrived, but as he noticed her in the dorrway he beckoned her into his office. "Gwen, how have things gone today for you?" he asked as she crossed over to him and gave him a hug.

"Alright. What about you? You heard from mum yet?"

He nodded, "She sent me a letter at about three o' clock, but I don't think she had much time to write it – it was very brief. She says they can't find any trace of You-Know-Who, which means it's likely he is still around in some form or another."

Gwen nodded gravely as she waited for him to continue.

"But she says they're still working on trying to get a better picture of what happened. She probably won't be home until very late tonight, although she'd like you to know that your Barty has been very helpful, if that makes you feel any better."

Gwen smiled. It did, but only marginally. "Do I have to go home on my own now?"

He considered it for a moment then shook his head. "No, I don't think anybody would mind if you waited for me to finish in here today."

Feeling relieved she wouldn't have to go home to an empty house in the current circumstances, Gwen took a seat next to her father's desk and waited for the next hour to pass, wondering what was going to happen now.

**A/N: Meh. I feel like nothing much has happened this chapter, but I think I just need to fill in how Gwen finds out about what's happened otherwise things aren't going to make sense later on. Lots more interesting stuff next chapter, I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Might I suggest that, after reading this, you go and read my other mini-fic _Ulterior Motives _(please do!) if you want to know a bit more about what's going on. It's been up for a couple of weeks and I haven't updated it because I'm focussing on this story right now, but it's supposed to provide a bit of a backstory to one of the characters in this fic.**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Everyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been drawn into the investigation as to what had happened at Godric's Hollow last night, and now even junior administrators like Barty were present at the scene. He had been assigned to trying to trace the footsteps of the Death Eaters that had been present in the surrounding area, as they'd managed to confirm the Dark Lord hadn't gone immediately to the house. It was a rather pointless task, given that most of them had disapparated very close to the scene of the crime, but given that he was now on his own in the forest surrounding Godric's Hollow it gave him more chance to fulfil his other task of finding out exactly what had become of Pettigrew.

Barty was, in all honesty, frightened as hell. He hadn't really understood what the others had meant last night when they said the Dark Lord had gone, but once he'd read the papers and heard his father's ranting this morning, he'd begun to worry what was going to happen to him. The Dark Lord couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. Barty didn't want to believe it. But if he was, what did that mean for him?

Bellatrix had said they would find him, and Barty knew that was exactly what they were going to have to do. It was the only way forward for him now: he'd gotten involved with the Death Eaters in the firm belief that the Dark Lord would win this war and Barty would come out of it in a better position than his father, but now he didn't know what was going to happen. However, he still had time to turn things around if he was able to prove his loyalty by finding the Dark Lord. It seemed that some of the others had given up already. When Barty had arrived here this morning the Ministry had sent a unit from the Department of Mysteries, of which Augustus Rookwood – the Death Eaters' inside man – was part of. Barty had only managed to speak to him briefly, but apparently Lucius Malfoy had already banned them from going anywhere near his house again. Selfish, disloyal bastard.

Barty wasn't supposed to be out here on his own, but the man he'd been sent to review the area with really was intolerable and they didn't get on at all. Calkwell had gone in the opposite direction to try and find evidence in another part of the forest, while Barty was now here trying to find traces left by Death Eater activity by himself. He almost laughed at the pointlessness of it. Even if he found anything he wasn't going to tell anyone. Despite the fact he knew he had little to fear from the Death Eaters, the uncertainty of the situation still made him rather nervous, and when he heard the sound of something scrabbling behind him on the forest floor he whipped round quickly. He paused for a moment as he tried to work out what had caused it, but seeing there was nothing in sight he shrugged it off as just being one of those things that could have been caused by anything. Nothing to worry about.

As he turned back round, however, he was in for a shock as he realised there was somebody standing in front of him. He began reaching for his wand, but didn't have much chance to do anything before Pettigrew shouted _"Stupefy!" _and Barty was thrown to the floor. Somehow, he managed to keep hold of his wand and tried to return the curse, but Pettigrew was too fast – something Barty was learning quickly he was very good at – and followed it up with _"Expelliarmus!" _Barty's wand was wrenched out of his hand and he didn't have much choice but to try and run away as Pettigrew quickly approached him. He didn't have chance to get very far before Pettigrew once again cast the curse he had used in Islington to stick him to the floor. Barty wondered what Pettigrew was doing here and why he had decided to come back, but just as he was about to spit some insult at him along the lines of "Filthy traitor," Pettigrew had kicked him in the stomach. Barty doubled over and gasped in pain, but he couldn't get up.

"It's all your fault, you bastard," Pettigrew said, his high-pitched voice strangely menacing.

"What's my fault? You're the one who led us to this, you treacherous little rat," Barty spat back at him.

"You just couldn't let me keep the money, could you?" Pettigrew snarled, and kicked him again. Barty groaned.

"Well, you wanted to live."

"You have no idea what this was about!" Pettigrew gave him another kick in the stomach, and then one more in his face. Barty yelped as he heard his nose crack and felt blood begin to pour down his face.

"Then what is this about?" he muttered thickly through the stream of blood.

"Emily."

"Who?"

"Emily Brondheim! Don't you remember her? Blonde Hufflepuff girl three years above you?"

Barty's lack of reaction clearly showed he didn't, and Pettigrew looked like he was about to kick him again, but then decided against it.

"No, you wouldn't, would you. Funny how nobody ever seemed to notice her but me."

Barty was completely confused, but just wanted to be able to reach his wand so he could put a rather nasty hex on Pettigrew. The bastard deserved it. "What the fuck's she got to do with anything?"

"Everything! The money was for her. When she got involved with one of…your lot."

"Well, whatever it was it was her own fault…"

"Shut up!" Pettigrew gave him another brutal kick and Barty groaned as he spat out blood. "She didn't know what she was letting herself in for. She had no idea he was a Death Eater. It was just that Rosier took advantage of her. When Moody came for him…he saw her with him and thought she must be a Death Eater too. Then of course he died, and they all came after her even though she wasn't involved in any of it. It was your father that signed the arrest warrant for her, you son of a bitch. She's been on the run ever since. That's why I asked you for the money; I thought that if it was you people who'd got her into that mess then you could damn well get her out. I was going to get her a new identity, a new life somewhere else. She was going to leave the country and nobody would ever find her. I had everything planned out and I just needed the money. But now I can't even get that! What am I supposed to do? Now they're trying to round up the Death Eaters and I've got nothing to fall back on. She's going to end up in Azkaban and it's all because of you, you bastard!"

Pettigrew was about to kick him again, but Barty was expecting it and grabbed hold of his foot and twisted it so that Pettigrew fell to the floor with a yelp. He was about to bring up his wand again, but Barty grabbed hold of his arm and climbed on top of him to pin him to the floor. He still couldn't stand up properly, but managed to get to his knees and try and wrench the wand from Pettigrew's grasp. Before he'd managed it though Pettigrew had transformed into a rat again and scampered off. Barty tried to go after him, but it was difficult on his hands and knees and Pettigrew was far too fast for him. "Fuck!" he yelled after the retreating rodent, "Fuck!" He gave a frustrated scream before spitting out another gobbet of blood and collapsing on the floor. What did the rat think he was going to do now?

Thankfully, the curse didn't last as long as last time and within fifteen minutes Barty was able to get up again and collect his wand. He used it to clean himself up while still muttering curses under his breath, angry that once again he'd allowed himself to be overpowered by a supposedly less competent wizard. He did however think that Pettigrew's skills as an animagus gave him an unfair advantage, and Barty didn't know why he'd chosen to come after him anyway. It wasn't like Barty was to blame for his girlfriend (or whatever she'd been to him) getting involved with the Death Eaters, and he thought that if the bitch was too stupid to realise what was going on then it was her own fault how things had turned out.

A moment after thinking it, he realised the hypocrisy of that sentiment and wished he could take it back. Even though he hadn't said it out loud, he wished he'd never thought it in the first place. It didn't make Emily stupid just because she hadn't known what Rosier was up to. Gwen was clueless too, but she certainly wasn't stupid. But that still didn't mean that because things had turned out badly for Emily it was somehow Barty's fault. Did Pettigrew hold him responsible because his father had signed the warrant? That was probably the case, and Barty felt a surge of anger that people still judged him because of his father. He was nothing like Barty Crouch Sr, and if people could be bothered to pay any attention to him they would notice that.

After getting rid of the blood Barty headed back to the ruins of the Potters' house. He was sort of glad that he had at least got to find out what Pettigrew wanted the money for, but it didn't do any good now. When he arrived back he headed straight to Augustus Rookwood, who was carrying out a spell residue survey on the house. Barty walked purposefully up to him and spoke quietly so that only he could hear. "I've just seen Wormtail in the forest. He tried to attack me, but when I managed to overpower him he turned into a rat and ran away." There was no point giving him the full details, Barty thought.

Rookwood looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "We have others looking for him in London, I'll let them know you saw him. Did you find out any more information as to what happened?"

"No." Barty thought about telling him about what Pettigrew had said, but decided it might be in his best interests not to mention it.

"Alright. We'll find him. And, Crouch, there's something else." He took Barty's arm and led him to one side so they could continue their conversation further away from everyone else. "There's a banker, Maurice Redknapp, he's a senior executive at Gringotts. His wife's an American xenocaster. She's in Seattle at the moment, but he might know something that can help us."

"Xenocaster?"

"Their equivalent of an Unmentionable. She's an expert in old magic and she might be able to tell us what happened to the Dark Lord, but we'll need her husband to get her co-operation. Rodolphus thinks he can break through the anti-apparition charm on Gringotts but we'll still need more information; like a floor plan of the building, the location of Redknapp's office and what security measures are in place. Do you think you could find that out for us, Crouch?"

Realising this meant an attack on Gringotts, Barty immediately felt reluctant to agree to it. However, he also felt pleased to have been asked to carry out a task that was so important, and reasoned with himself that since Gwen wasn't even on the same floor as Redknapp she'd be well out of harm's way. Not to mention that if he was supposed to be coming up with a plan to infiltrate Gringotts then it would give him more chances to see her, even though he hoped he could still prevent her from getting caught up in all this. He'd waited so long for the opportunity to show his true value to the Death Eaters, and now that it was finally here he couldn't let it pass. If he was able to do something really, truly important to helping find the Dark Lord the Barty knew whatever risks that were involved would be worth it. If he succeeded in the end then he knew he'd be justly rewarded. "I can, but you know things aren't likely to start calming down at work for at least a week. It'll be difficult to get away: I'll need time."

Rookwood seemed annoyed but nodded in acknowledgement; working at the Ministry himself he knew how difficult the situation was. "I know, but it needs to be as soon as possible. The longer we wait the less likely it is we'll be able to find out exactly what happened. This is important, Crouch. Do you think you can manage it?"

Barty wanted to be able to rise to the challenge. "Yes."

"Good." Rookwood then suddenly raised his voice and changed the subject, "Right then Crouch, I'll need a full spell history report on this place as soon as possible."

Barty gave a nod, slipping into his role easily. "I'll have it to you by this afternoon, sir."

"Good, good. It'll be important to us working out exactly what kind of magic is at play here."

And with that Rookwood headed back towards his team of Unmentionables, while Barty was left feeling both excited and nervous at the prospect of carrying out the task he'd been given.

**A/N: When I was trying to think of a reason for Peter wanting the money I knew it was going to have to be pretty important. I was wondering what would cause him to sell out his best friends to Voldemort, so I decided on giving him a friend/love interest that he considered even more important than James and the others. I imagine it was a situation where he liked her more than she liked him, but even when she got involved with Rosier he didn't get up and still chose to help her out when she was in trouble. When I came up with it I was a bit worried maybe I was giving Peter too honourable a motive and he was acting more noble than he's portrayed in the books, but it's important to remember he was in Gryffindor, not Slytherin, and so he's more likely to show a Gryffindor trait by taking risks to help somebody out, rather than a Slytherin trait by deceiving everybody just for his own means. I don't think he's really evil at this point in the story, but becomes that way when his plan falls to pieces and he realises he has no other option. Maybe I'm making him slightly OOC, but I like to think I'm twisting the canon rather than contradicting it. I know some of you were curious as to why Peter wanted the money so I hope this explanation fits the bill. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: You know when you've come up with a character and you're trying to decide what to call them, and then suddenly a name pops into your head and you've no idea where's it's come from? Well, I've worked out how I got Gwen's family name. I got a newsletter from the University of York today, and the admissions secretary is called Jo Coulthard. I must have seen her name ages ago and somehow it's worked its way into the story without me even realising. Weird.**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

When Sander arrived in Gwen's office on Monday he still had a smile on his face, despite the situation. Even though it definitely brightened Gwen's mood, she still couldn't help but disapprove slightly. It didn't seem appropriate right now.

He grinned at her as he entered the room. "Morning, _Gwentje._"

"Morning," she smiled back, but felt slightly uneasy about his chipper mood. "Um, don't you think it's a little early to be smiling yet, after everything that's happened?"

He gave a casual shrug, "You-Know-Who's gone, business is booming and I get to see my lovely investment advisor today. What's there not to smile about?"

She blushed at 'my lovely investment advisor', but felt like he probably needed bringing back to reality. "Two people are dead, Sander."

His expression darkened and he seemed to become more serious, but he didn't look apologetic. "I know, but you always have to look on the bright side of any situation, don't you? Otherwise you'd just be miserable all the time."

"True," Gwen said, but he'd just managed to make her feel worse about what she was going to have to tell him about his financial situation. "Sander, we need to talk about business…and money."

He nodded. "Yep, that's what this meeting's for."

"Okay. Well, why don't you have a seat?"

He sat down in the chair opposite her, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, Sander, I just don't think the business plan you had two weeks ago is really viable now."

His expression remained neutral. "Why not?"

She was surprised he'd asked her to explain as she thought the reason was obvious. He also didn't seem to have reacted much at all to what she thought was bad news, and she wasn't sure what to say. "Well, the war is in effect over, isn't it? You-Know-Who's gone, like you said. People aren't going to really need to buy dark detectors much in future, so I just don't think things are going to work out as well for you as you'd hoped."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Ah, Gwen, I wish I had your optimism."

She frowned. She thought he'd seemed very optimistic about his business plans, and she was the one who was doubting them. "What do you mean?"

"It isn't over, Gwen. Sure, he himself may be gone, but his followers aren't going to let it go that easily. We can't even be sure if he really is dead yet, so there's still going to be a lot more fighting to come. Our dark detectors are still required just as much today as they were on Monday, if not more so."

"Whatever happened to looking on the bright side?"

He smiled again. "First you have to be realistic, then you have to find something you can be realistically positive about."

Gwen sighed. Her uncertain and dark mood had returned. "Do you really think it's going to turn out like that?"

"Well, your Ministry agrees with me. They've already started drafting in foreign aurors to round up the Death Eaters before they manage to re-organise themselves. Martijn came over from Amsterdam yesterday. Apparently, your MLE Department has got so many aurors tied up with the investigation as to what happened they need assistance."

That was news to Gwen, and she raised an eyebrow. "Mum never said it was _that _bad."

Sander gave her a reassuring smile. "They're just trying to make sure things don't get drastically worse before they get better. Hopefully, it means the end's in sight now and this won't be going on for much longer, but at this moment in time I still think Desdinova Dark Detectors are going to be in demand."

Gwen nodded. She understood his point, even though it was incredibly depressing to think that even with You-Know-Who gone the war still wasn't over. "Alright, I see your point. You can probably make this work to your advantage." She had her business head back on now, and had picked up a file from the side of her desk which she opened to look at the updated DDD shares and stocks. As Sander had predicted, the prices had shot up. "At the moment you're doing really well, but by the time you've raised the funds you originally aimed for do you think you'll need them anymore? The longer you leave it to start selling in the UK chances are the lower the demand will get."

Sander looked thoughtful. "At this instant, it's difficult to predict exactly what's going to happen. It depends a lot on how things progress over the next few days and what we can find out about the situation with the Death Eaters. If they look completely broken or if they're ready to fight back will definitely influence our business plan for the next few months. I'm going to have to discuss this in a lot more detail with Martijn, but I just wanted to know where we are with the business right now."

A thought suddenly occurred to Gwen. "You say Martijn's in the UK now, right? Is there any chance you could maybe bring him round for a meeting next week? I know he's going to be insanely busy right now, but from a business point of view for you it would be really beneficial."

He smiled. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. He's been dying to meet you anyway."

Gwen blushed. Had Sander been talking to his brother about her? "What have you been telling him."

"Oh, just that you're really nice and helpful and great at selling our stocks."

She blushed even further and muttered something like, "If the company's good they sort of sell themselves."

Sander laughed. "And modest. I told him that too."

She was feeling both incredibly flattered and incredibly awkward right now, but Sander seemed to find her embarrassment endearing. "I meant it as a compliment, Gwen."

"I know, but it's…I'm not used to it."

He frowned. "Doesn't anyone else compliment you? Like your boyfriend."

She'd never really thought about it before, but it occurred to her that the answer was no. "Not really."

Sander looked disapproving. "Well, he should do."

Gwen didn't want to ignite the whole rivalry thing again so said nothing. Instead, Sander got up out of his seat and prepared to leave. "I'm sorry Gwen but I have to go. With Martijn off on auror business I'm left running the company on my own, as it were. I think I need to get back to HQ, but I'll try and bring Martijn next week and we can have a proper discussion about this. I've got no idea when he'll be available so is it alright if I just drop in without an appointment?"

She nodded. "Yeah, sure. But if it clashes with another meeting you may have to wait."

"That's no problem. Thanks for being so helpful." He offered her his hand as a parting gesture, and she wondered why, as such a generally informal and friendly person, he always insisted on handshakes as a means of farewell.

"Okay, I'll see you soon then, Sander."

"I'll see you soon, Gwen," he said, before turning and exiting her office.

She sat back down at her desk and took out the file again that contained the list of shares and stocks. In comparison to other companies, Desdinova Dark Detectors really was doing well, and she was surprised to see that in the past two days it's share prices had increased by more than five times that of it's closest competitor, Dee's Alchemical Devices. It seemed that You-Know-Who's downfall really had been more of a catalyst for caution among the wizarding community that a means for celebration. People seemed more scared now that they didn't know how the enemy would behave as individual, disorganised units that when they'd been under the control of You-Know-Who. At least before there'd been a general sense that people knew what it was they were fighting. Now nobody seemed sure of anything.

Gwen flicked back through the file to the pages for her other client companies and noticed that there'd been no real improvement since Tuesday. You-Know-Who's downfall had prompted investors to try and sell rather than buy, as they had no doubt predicted, like Sander, a period in which things would get worse before they started improving. As no one was looking to buy though, the markets were pretty much at a standstill except for the companies selling products that were considered most beneficial to personal security. Gwen noticed with a smile that shares on Apollo Broomsticks had gone up by 3.5%. _What do people plan to do, fly away if a Death Eater comes after them?_

She went back to trying to sell stocks for her other clients for a few minutes, but given the inactivity of the markets the little gold alert dial she kept on her desk didn't show up any interested investors. Desdinova Dark Detectors was the only company she was likely to have any luck with if she started trying to advertise it to the investors on Fisk Alley via the remote crystal link, but she wasn't supposed to spend a disproportionate amount of time on one company at the expense of other clients. After about ten minutes she decided that she was going to go back to DDD after all, and if Semog had a problem with it then she could give him a solid excuse that it was financially the best option. However, just as she was about to switch the settings on the quaffle-sized blue orb that connected her to Fisk Alley, there was a knock on the door. Thinking it might be Sander who'd forgotten something, she called out, "Come in," but as she looked up she saw a different man looking at her with a rather apologetic expression on his face. "Barty?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Two, Chapter Five**

The anti-apparition charm on Gringotts meant Barty had to apparate to just outside the front entrance in order to go inside. As he entered through the set of double doors he gave a nod to the auror stationed there, who returned the gesture in acknowledgement. Barty vaguely recognised him from work, but wasn't sure what his name was. Clayton, possibly…or it might have been Clifton. Either way, Barty didn't really care. He'd been slightly worried at first that the aurors stationed at Gringotts might recognise him every time he came in and wonder what he was up to, but he'd done this several times now and it had never been the same auror twice. Not to mention they probably had more important things to worry about than wonder why he was sneaking off work. If anything, they probably all thought he was here on Ministry business, and that suited Barty just fine.

Once he was inside, he began to head towards the lift that would take him to the third floor, as he always did, but then remembered his assignment from Rookwood and thought it might be a better idea to take the stairs. Even if the prospect of climbing the three flights of steps to Gwen's office wasn't very appealing, that way he'd be able to get a better idea of the layout of the building. He'd just altered direction to take a sharper right towards the stairs when something – or rather someone – caught his eye. A tall, long haired man was heading away from the lifts towards the exit, and Barty recognised him as the man who had been in Gwen's office the other day. What had she called him? Sandy? No, he wasn't English, it had been something more Germanic sounding. Sander, that was it. He was the git who'd offered to take her out for ice cream and has then tried to hang around to listen in to their conversation. And now it looked like he'd been to see her again.

A hostile glower came across Barty's face as his gaze settled on Sander, who hadn't noticed him at all, but instead carried on towards the entrance oblivious to the dirty look he was being given. As Barty reached the half way point to the stairs Sander was just a couple of yards away from the exit, and Barty suddenly had an idea. It wasn't a very good one – rather petty, actually – but he was so stressed out with everything that was going on at the moment he thought that just that one little thing might cheer him up a little. There was a dark detector hanging just above the double doors at the entrance that was designed to flash red and emit a buzzing sound if it detected any dark magic passing it. Barty had been responsible for signing it off in the equipment check before it was even installed, and back then he'd made a point of deactivating it so it specifically wouldn't go off when he was around. However, it could still work with other people. Although Barty was several metres away, he hadn't gotten the best result in the year on his charms NEWT for nothing. Just as Sander was about to pass under the detector Barty discreetly slipped his wand out of his pocket and quietly muttered the incantation for an activation charm. As he had hoped, the dark detector suddenly began to flash red and emit a loud, grating buzzing noise. Most of the people in the foyer turned to see what all the commotion was and there were a few panicked murmurs, but then the auror Clayton – or whatever his name was – appeared at the door and announced to the room, "No need to panic. It's just routine security." As people realised they quite clearly weren't being attacked and that there seemed to be an auror in control, the impending outburst of panic subsided. As Clayton turned to Sander and began the process of detaining him and carrying out ID checks and dark magic scans, most of the activity in the foyer returned to normal, but Barty continued to watch the two of them intently.

He'd hoped that Sander would at least seem annoyed, preferably angry at having been held up for no reason, but to Barty's disappointment he seemed completely relaxed about it. He just stood there casually, smiling at Clayton when he talked to him, and Barty even thought he heard him say something like, "No problem, mate. Better safe than sorry." The man's seemingly perfectly happy mood only served to make Barty even more sullen, and as Clayton finished carrying out the checks and let Sander go on his way Barty turned back towards the stairs gritting his teeth and with a foul expression on his face. What right did the man have to act so infuriatingly relaxed? Especially when there were people running round like crazy trying to sort out the mess left in the wake of the Dark Lord's downfall.

Barty was still glowering when he reached the first floor landing, but decided he ought to make an effort to try and cheer up if he was going to see Gwen. It wasn't her fault he was in this mess. If anything, she done a lot to try and help get him out of it, even though she didn't know the truth about what he was involved in. And now he was going to have to use her again to try and break into Gringotts. He paused on the stairs for a moment as he let the wave of guilt come and subside, and then reminded himself that he was doing this for the Dark Lord and if it meant lying some more then that was what was necessary.

Another thing he still felt bad about was that he was going to have to cancel their date on Saturday. He'd been dragged into work to continue with the investigation, and as much as it would please him immensely to piss off his father by not showing up for work, he knew in the current circumstances he really couldn't do that. Things were pretty hectic in the department at the moment and he wasn't certain how much he'd manage to get away without anybody noticing. His position among the Death Eaters was even more uncertain: still not all of them trusted him, and with the Dark Lord gone he now had even more to prove.

As he reached the landing on the third floor, Barty tried not to think about Rookwood and the others and instead concentrated just for the moment on the main reason why he'd come here. Although he knew he ought to be concentrating on the assignment he'd been given, he wasn't going to pretend that Gwen wasn't the only reason he'd chosen to come at this time instead of waiting until the end of the day or just seeing one of the goblins downstairs. Her office door was closed when he reached it, as always, and he gave it quite a loud knock, hoping that she hadn't gone out for whatever reason. He was answered very quickly by a call of, "Come in," and he pushed the door open, feeling slightly bad about what he was about to have to tell her.

She just looked up from her desk as he entered the room and Barty noticed that she seemed quite surprised (although thankfully pleased as well) to see him. "Barty." She was smiling at him, but at the same time seemed rather disapproving.

"Hi Gwen."

"I really wasn't expecting to see you. Are you skiving work again?"

He looked at her sheepishly, "Well, I did have to see to the aurors on security downstairs, so I thought I'd pop in and say hi while I was here." He knew that was a load of bullshit, and she seemed to know it too, but she shook her head in a way that suggested she didn't really mind too much.

"Alright, what is it you wanted to see me about?"

She leaned back in her chair in a way that seemed to be inviting him to sit down, and he did so as he tried to work out which news to give her first. Personal or professional? He decided on personal. "Well, firstly, I'm really, really sorry but I'm going to have to cancel Saturday."

Gwen sighed and looked disappointed, but Barty thought her reaction suggested she'd been expecting him to say that. "Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Mum's been telling me how things are completely crazy in the Ministry at the moment: more crazy than you'd think if you just judged it on the newspaper reports."

Barty nodded, "Yeah, it is that bad. But we can still do something some other time, right?"

"Um…yeah, sure. Once everything's calmed down I'm sure we could go see a play or something."

Barty couldn't help but feel slightly dejected as he noticed she didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about it, but then supposed she was just stressed like everyone else. "That's great."

"Yeah, we can probably find something to do," she said casually, and then leant forward in her seat so she was looking at him more intently, "So, you said firstly, so what's the secondly?"

He paused a moment before answering, thinking this was probably going to annoy her. "Well, I need you to cancel the loan."

She didn't respond for a few moments, but instead just looked at him with an expression that was somewhere between curiosity and an angry glare. Yep, she was annoyed. "Why?"

Her tone had been demanding, and he didn't think she was going to take his next sentence very well. "I can't tell you."

She glared. "Well, I'm sorry Barty, but if you don't give me a damn good reason to cancel that loan you can pay it all back with ten percent interest. I'm bloody sick of this…"

"Gwen…" he tried to interrupt her, but she seemed to be in rant mode.

"First, you ask me to invest in all these shares for you, which I do. No questions asked. Then you want me to get you a ridiculously expensive loan, which was bloody difficult for me but I do it anyway, yet you won't even tell me what it's for. And then after all that work, suddenly out of the blue you don't want the loan anymore, so you just expect me to cancel it without wanting to know why. Well, if you think that's going to work you can get stuffed. I think I've put enough hard work and effort into this by now to have a right to know what's going on."

He'd never really seen her angry before, and her outburst stunned him into silence for a few moments. It was strange seeing someone who was usually so quiet and reserved lose her temper like that, but he knew she had every right to be mad at him. He also knew, however, that there was no way he could tell her what he was really up to. But judging by her reaction, she wasn't going to settle for no answers this time. He had to think of something to tell her. "Gwen, I said I can't tell you for a reason."

"But you can make me run round in circles after you though, so can't you at least give me a good reason for not letting me know precisely what the money's for?"

He had to think. Fast. And the first thing that popped into his head was Rookwood. "Well…you know the Department of Mysteries?"

He saw her raise an eyebrow. Clearly this hadn't been the kind of explanation she was expecting. "Yeah?"

"Well, I've been wanting to transfer there. I think you know how much I hate working in the Department for magical Law Enforcement. There's a guy working in the Department of Mysteries who said he wants me to join his staff, but it'd be difficult for him to get my father to agree to it. I've been working secretly for him for a few months, until they can find a way to get me the transfer, but it's been on a top secret project that nobody's supposed to know about, not even my father or other senior people outside the Department. We've been developing this new kind of magic that we were going to use to try and defeat th… You-Know-Who, but it was really expensive so they needed extra funds for it. Officially, the project didn't even exist so it couldn't ask for an increase in the Department budget. Instead they decided to try for private funding, but the head of the Department couldn't ask for the money because the _Prophet _would no doubt get hold of it somehow, so they asked me to try and get the loan for them. Although, obviously You-Know-Who's gone now, so the project's pretty redundant. That's why we don't need the loan anymore."

Following his explanation there was silence for a few moments, and Barty watched Gwen's reaction nervously, wondering if she'd bought it. Given that he'd just made it up on the spot, he wasn't sure if he could fill in any details convincingly she might want to know, but after a few moments it looked like she wasn't going to ask anything. Her only response was a quiet, "Oh," and, if anything, Barty thought she seemed rather embarrassed to have asked.

"Do you see now why I couldn't tell you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."

He thought she probably felt really bad now for having made him told her what she thought was supposed to be an official secret, and he really wished she wouldn't. He was the one who should be feeling bad: he was the one who'd messed her around and lied to her, but unfortunately there was no way he could tell her that. "Don't worry about it, Gwen. It was a little unfair for me to expect you to not ask questions."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then said something he hadn't been expecting. "What kind of magic?"

"What do you mean?" He'd thought he'd escaped the questions, but apparently not.

"The project, did it use dark magic?"

He thought carefully before answering. Why was she asking? Just because it was to do with the Department of Mysteries didn't mean there was automatically dark magic involved. He thought he should answer with caution, although it might be best for him to stick as close to the truth as possible. "Yeah."

She gave a thoughtful nod, as if she'd just managed to work something out. "Makes sense," she muttered, although she seemed to be saying it more to herself than to him.

"It does?" He couldn't work out what she was thinking.

"Yeah, otherwise why would it need to be a secret?"

"Oh, yeah, of course."

There was an awkward silence between them for a few moments before Barty finally broke it. "So, now you know."

"Yeah," Gwen responded. Barty thought she really did look like she wished she hadn't asked. "I'm sorry, you probably weren't supposed to tell me any of that."

He tried to give what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. "It's no big deal. I won't tell if you won't."

"No, I won't. Especially not if it's an important state secret or something."

He smiled at her to try and make her feel better. "Don't worry, I trust you. But it's got to feel pretty good though, knowing you're in on a really big Ministry secret."

"It's quite intimidating, actually."

"Well, it'll probably all be swept under the rug soon now anyway once everybody's managed to get things under control at work. Speaking of which, I must get back." He got up out of his seat. "I don't know when it'll be, but I'll try and call on you again as soon as things have calmed down."

"Oh, Barty, one moment…" He watched as she took a scrap piece of parchment from her desk and scribbled something down on it before handing it to him. "My address. Call on me at home next time. You'll get into trouble if you skive any more time at work."

She was smiling at him, and he smiled back. "Great, thanks Gwen. I'll see you later." Almost as an afterthought, he leant across the desk to give her a quick peck on the cheek before turning to leave the room, and he was glad to see she seemed somewhat pleased by this, smiling to herself as she muttered "Bye, Barty."

That was enough to put him in a good mood until he reached the bottom of the stairs again, even though he hadn't been doing much to take note of the layout of the building on the way down like Rookwood had instructed. Gwen seemed to completely have bought into his story, and although he didn't like lying to her it did at least mean she wasn't mad at him anymore, so that was one thing to feel good about. The smile quickly vanished from his face, however, as he stepped out into the foyer and recognised one of the men who was standing having what seemed like an important discussion with one of the senior goblins by the desks. Barty hesitated at the foot of the stairs and swore quietly to himself, before making the decision to try and make it to the exit as inconspicuously as possible. He hadn't gotten far though before her heard a reproachful voice call out from behind him, "Barty."

He stopped, inwardly uttering every swear word he knew, before turning slowly to face the man, his expression hostile and defiant. "Father."


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Two, Chapter Six**

Later that evening, Barty was sat in the living room back at Crouch Manor, staring blankly into the empty fireplace. He was sat slumped back in one of the cream armchairs, and might have appeared bored if he hadn't had such an intense look in his eyes. On the sofa, his mother was curled up reading a book with a blanket draped round her shoulders, and she kept occasionally glancing up to see if he'd moved or maybe his expression had settled into one that didn't seem quite so angry, but the way he was sat hadn't changed at all in the past hour. It was quite obvious to Elizabeth Crouch that something was wrong, but she'd decided not to say anything about it. She thought it would be best to let him be the one who made the decision to speak to her, but so far that hadn't happened. Either he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he genuinely hadn't noticed the concerned looks she was giving him, or he was choosing to ignore them.

After about an hour she thought she perhaps might say something as she couldn't stand seeing him like that any longer, but then thought that maybe he just needed a little more time and went back to her book.

Time was unlikely to make a difference. There was no way on earth Barty could tell his mother what was really wrong, and that was why he pretended not to notice whenever she glanced over at him with a worried expression. There were just too many thoughts swirling round his head – about his father, about Gwen, about the Death Eaters – and he knew he couldn't share them with anybody. Everything had gone wrong. The only positive thing he could see about the situation was that he hadn't lost the money – they'd never actually reached the stage where Pettigrew had asked for it to be handed over – but Barty thought he wouldn't have minded losing five thousand galleons if it just meant everything could be sorted.

The Dark Lord was gone. Maybe not dead, but most definitely gone, and with him all Barty's hopes and plans for the future had disappeared. He'd thought that it was inevitable that the Death Eaters would win the war, and he'd wanted so badly to be part of the new kind of government that would be put in place. Unlike his father, who'd just be discarded as a relic of the old system and had no place in the new one, Barty had wanted the opportunity to be the one who was important; the one everybody had to pay attention to. But it seemed like that was never going to happen now. He wasn't sure what to do. Was it best for him to try and sever all ties with the Death Eaters now and pretend he never had anything to do with them, just going back to the way life was before? Despite it being an incredibly unappealing prospect he seriously considered it, but then he heard Bellatrix's voice in his head – _"You're loyal, aren't you Crouch?" _– and he knew that wasn't an option. Yes, he was loyal. He had to be loyal, otherwise what could he say for himself? He was just the insignificant son of Bartemius Crouch Sr., forever doomed to live in his father's shadow, and if he wasn't loyal to this cause now then it only made him a coward who ran away from the chance to prove to the world what he was worth. He had to stay with the Death Eaters and help find their Master: if he didn't then he knew he'd never amount to anything.

But that did nothing to make the situation any easier. It was getting more and more difficult for him to keep secrets, and he'd been forced to lie to Gwen again earlier. Even though he knew it was necessary to prevent himself from being discovered, he didn't like having to do it. He thought she was probably far nicer to him than he deserved and he wished he was able to give her something back, but now he wasn't even able to take her out at the weekend. _Other things _had got in the way.

At that thought Barty's expression changed ever so slightly to become angrier than ever. Really this was all his father's fault. His father's fault that he had no freedom to do anything without disapproval, that he was forced to work on Saturday in a job he fucking hated, and that he was being spied on by journalists just because he was famous by association. Everything that was making his life difficult right now really came down to his father. Bartemius _fucking_ Crouch Sr.

Barty found himself thinking back to the argument they'd had earlier, shortly after their encounter at Gringotts. Crouch Sr. had refrained from reprimanding him until they'd arrived back in his office at the Ministry, but when it had come it had been worse than ever. The worst part was that he hadn't even shouted. Well, not at first anyway. He'd just quietly asked for Barty to close the door, and when Barty had done so and they were stood facing each other he'd just given him that look – oh yes, that _disappointed _look – and spoken in the most condescending, patronising tone he could manage, "Would you mind telling me what you were doing at Gringotts, Barty?"

Barty had just glared at him, unable to think what to say. The 'doing something for work' excuse wasn't exactly going to wash with his father, so he just remained silent.

Realising his son wasn't going to say anything, Crouch spoke again. "I'll tell you what I think you were doing, shall I?"

Again, he got nothing but a dirty look in response.

"I think you were seeing that girl again, weren't you?"

Barty bristled. He didn't like being addressed like that, and in particular he hated the way his father referred to Gwen as _'that girl', _as if she was something distasteful he'd rather not think about. Admittedly, he was relieved his father hadn't worked out he was involved with the Death Eaters, but he'd never really thought his father had suspected that anyway. If that was the case, he would have been disowned by now and there was no way they'd be having this conversation. "Did you really think I wasn't going to go and see her? Especially with the way things are at the moment?"

Crouch Sr. glared at his son, but managed to keep his voice calm. "The way things are at the moment is exactly the reason you should have been at work, Barty. This isn't the first time you've snuck off to see her either, is it? Don't think I haven't noticed." Even though he wasn't shouting, there was a steely edge to his voice.

When Barty made his reply his tone was just has hard. "Well, I'm sorry father, but unlike you I don't value work to the point where I think it's okay to neglect those I supposedly care about."

Barty noticed his father's knuckles whiten as his hands balled into fists; he was struggling to remain calm. "I don't know how you dare say that, Barty. So you really think I neglect you?"

_Of course you do, you bastard, _Barty thought._ You just try and pretend otherwise. _"Well, tell me when was the last time you spent _any _quality time with me and mother." Crouch Sr. looked like he was about to reply when Barty butted in again, "And I mean _before _that ridiculously contrived attempt to find out who I was seeing last Sunday. That was just a fucking joke. You don't care about us half as much as you care about your job."

Crouch looked like he was about to explode with rage, but still managed to prevent himself from shouting. "I work _because _I care about you and your mother. I do this job to protect you from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers."

Barty wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but it wasn't like it was true anyway. Unlike his father, he made no effort to prevent himself from shouting in his response. "Oh really? Well, what makes you so different from everybody else in the fucking department? They all manage to do their jobs and still get home to see their families from time to time. All this 'protecting us' crap isn't much good to us if we never get to see you, is it? We may as well be fucking next door neighbours for all we matter to you."

Crouch didn't say anything, but instead, just as Barty finished the last sentence, he raised his hand and hit Barty hard round the face. There was a sharp smacking sound as Barty's head snapped violently to the left, and he felt his cheek sting as blood rushed to the area of impact. For a couple of seconds he was too stunned to turn his head again, and instead just stood there breathing heavily. In all the years they'd spent constantly arguing and being at each other's throats, his father had never hit him before. Not once. But now it seemed that Barty had finally overstepped the line.

After a couple of moments of silence Barty finally managed to turn to face his father again, who was still glaring at him with a look of fury in his eyes. "Don't you _ever _talk to me like that again. Do you understand?" Crouch growled at him, his voice dripping with fury.

Barty wanted to come back with a sarcastic, "Or what? Are you gonna ground me?"but he was still too shocked to say anything. His father repeated the question again in the same dangerous tone. "I said _do you understand?_"

All Barty could manage was a breathless nod.

His father continued to glare. "Right. Well you are _forbidden _from seeing that girl again during work time. I don't suppose there's much I can do to stop you seeing her outside of work, but I'll be letting Christine Coulthard know what you've been doing. And John Coulthard as well, next time I see him. Let's just say I don't think they'll look too favourably on yours or their daughter's attitude towards work."

Barty desperately wanted to say something back to prove he hadn't lost the argument, something like, "Go on, I dare you. See if they care," but he still hadn't recovered from the shock of being hit. He didn't think he was able to respond at all.

Crouch seemed to be satisfied that he'd gotten the message through to his son, and gave a dismissive nod. "Right. Get back to work." Crouch turned to walk back behind his desk, and rather dazedly Barty began to make his way towards the exit. Just as he reached the door though, his courage returned.

"So, can mother and I expect to see you at all tonight?" he said, his tone mocking.

Crouch Sr. rounded on his son again and stormed towards him, his expression livid. Instinctively, Barty backed away, scared he was going to be hit again. It occurred to him that maybe he should have held his tongue, but at the same time he quite enjoyed being able to provoke this kind of reaction from his father.

Crouch did indeed look like he was going to hit Barty again, but stopped just a few inches in front of him so Barty was backed up against the door. Finally, his self control had failed and he was shouting. "You know what Barty? Just fuck off. If you care so much about Elizabeth despite the fact you have never done anything to help look after her in your life then just fuck off home. You never do anything bloody useful here anyway." With that, Crouch turned and stormed back off to sit back behind his desk, refusing to look at his son.

Rather timidly, Barty opened the door and walked out silently into the corridor. The office was soundproofed for security purposes so none of the department staff had heard what had gone off inside, but if they saw Barty on his way out they most definitely noticed his shocked and depleted demeanour. Barty didn't care: he wasn't paying attention to them. Instead, all he could think about was he father's final words to him. That had hurt. For one thing, he'd provoked his father into telling him to fuck off, and that was unheard of. For Bartemius Crouch Sr. to use that kind of language he must have been angry beyond words. But that hadn't been what had hurt most though. It hadn't even been the accusation that he was bloody useless when it came to work. What had hurt most was the accusation that he'd never done anything to help look after his mother in his life.

It didn't hurt because it was a lie. It hurt because it was true.

And now he was doing it again. Sat in the living room with he sick mother on the sofa opposite, ignoring her because he just didn't think he could stand to talk to her. Because he couldn't stand to feel dependent on her, couldn't stand to care about her when he knew he was going to lose her.

At last, he let his eyes flicker towards where she sat curled up on the sofa with her book as he let the guilt wash over him. As he noticed she was looking at him, his gaze flickered down again. He didn't want to talk, but he supposed there was no avoiding it now.

"Barty?" Her tone was concerned.

"Mother?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." It was a stupid answer and he knew it, but he still didn't want to talk about things.

"Barty." She said his name in a way that showed she knew he was lying, but at the same time was gentle and motherly.

He sighed. He thought he should tell her _something, _but there was just so much going on right now that he didn't want her to know about. "Well…" he began, thinking about what he could say, "I wanted to take Gwen out to the opera on Saturday, but I'm not going to be able to now and I feel bad about having to cancel on her."

His mother nodded understandingly. "Well, is she mad at you for having to cancel?"

"No, she was…fine. Very understanding about it."

"Well, in that case I'm sure you could take her out some other time."

Barty was grateful that his mother seemed to be showing a genuine interest in him, but at the same time he wished she wouldn't get involved at all. It made everything so much more complicated. "I know, but she seemed really keen to go out this week."

"Well, maybe I could have a word with your father, see if he'll let you have time off this weekend…"

"No." Barty cut her off rather abruptly. "It's fine, mum. Just please don't bring _him _into this."

Elizabeth sighed. "I wish you could try and be more understanding when it comes to your father, Barty. He really isn't as bad as you think."

Barty shook his head. She just didn't get it at all. "It's not as simple as that."

She studied him as she tried to work out what he was thinking, and as usual came to the right conclusion. "Has something happened at work?"

Barty really wished she didn't have that uncanny ability to work out exactly what was the matter with him. Whenever he was in one of his moods she could usually work out very quickly what was the reason for it, and once again she'd correctly figured out that something had gone off between him and this father. However, he wished she'd stay out of it. He didn't want to drag her into the argument. "No, mother, nothing. Everything's fine at work."

She quite clearly didn't believe him. "Barty, please…" she seemed to be pleading with him to tell her what was wrong, but then there was the sound of someone arriving in the fireplace in the entrance hall, and Barty glanced over his shoulder towards the doorway where he was expecting his father to appear any minute. "You know what, mum? Just forget it," he said as he got up out of his seat and stormed out of the room. He didn't glance back at her on his way out of the living room, nor did he glance at his father as he barged past him on the way to the stairs. All he wanted was to be left alone right now, and somehow he didn't think his father would care if he disappeared for the rest of the evening.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Two, Chapter Seven**

Dinner in the Coulthard household that evening was also an interesting affair. It began with John Coulthard asking his wife a question as they started their course of roast chicken. "So Christine, there was a security alert at the bank today which I didn't get told much about. I don't suppose you'd know anything more about it from work?"

Across the table, Gwen watched her mother's reaction. She thought her mother had seemed quite subdued when she got home from work earlier, but supposed it was just the stress of work getting to her like it was everyone else. Gwen had heard about the security alert downstairs, but wasn't senior enough to be given the details. Her father, on the other hand, would have been filled in on exactly what had gone on.

Christine nodded. "Yes, I heard about that. It got sorted pretty quickly though. They didn't need to send any aurors down, but Crouch went round anyway to speak to someone in charge about the security procedures. I'm surprised he didn't see you, actually."

John shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of chicken. "I was in a meeting with a group of curse breakers this afternoon. He spoke to Elrex and Redknapp instead. I heard it was some foreign chap that set it off?"

That worried Gwen slightly. There weren't that many foreigners that came into Gringotts on a daily basis. Could it have been Sander?

"Yes," her mother continued, "It was a Dutch businessman. It got sorted out very quickly on the scene though. Apparently he manufactures dark detectors for a living, so we think the kind of magic he uses in his products must have been misinterpreted by our dark detector. We don't think there's anything suspicious about him. His brother's one of the ones the Dutch Ministry sent over as a highly recommended auror and they've both got a very good reputation."

Inwardly, Gwen groaned. So it had been Sander. Why was it that everyone associated with her seemed to set dark detectors off? She'd been worrying earlier about how she was going to frame the question to Barty as to why he'd set off both the auroscope and the foe glass, but as it happened he'd provided the explanation himself. She thought it was better that he'd told her what he was up to at the Ministry without her having to mention the dark detectors – she didn't want him to think she hadn't trusted him. Maybe things had worked out for the better this way, although she didn't like the thought she was now keeping an incredibly important secret that she wasn't supposed to know about. But like Barty had said, hopefully things would calm down now and there would be no reason for anybody to ever ask about the project again.

Her parents continued their conversation. "Are the foreign aurors likely to be here long, Christine? How long do you think it is before we can round up all the Death Eaters?" her father asked.

"I don't know, John," Christine said in a tone that suggested she was annoyed by the question, "We're not even sure how many of them there are, for starters. It could be months."

Gwen thought she may as well mention she knew Sander. "I'm in a meeting with one of them next week," she said, "That Dutch businessman is one of my clients. Him and his brother are coming to see me about their company's finances."

"Really? What's he like?" her mother asked.

Gwen thought about that for a moment, "Well, he's really nice, has a really bad sense of time and likes ice cream."

"Most definitely doesn't sound like a Death Eater to me," John said with a smile.

Gwen smiled too, but her mother seemed too tired to be amused by the comment.

"I take it he was seeing you today, then?" Christine asked.

Gwen nodded, "Yeah, I sell stocks for him."

"And did you see anyone else today?"

At her mother's question, Gwen paused with the fork half way to her mouth, wondering why she'd been asked. She frequently saw many clients in the space of a day, but usually her mother wasn't interested in hearing about them. "Actually, yeah. I saw Barty again this morning." Gwen ate another forkful of chicken and hoped that would be enough to satisfy her mother's curiosity.

It wasn't. "Crouch told me about that," her mother continued, and Gwen immediately felt rather awkward and worried.

"He did?"

"Yes, he said his son's been leaving work to go and see you."

"Oh," Gwen wished this topic of conversation hadn't come up. She knew she couldn't tell any of them the real reason Barty had been coming to see her, so now she was only going to end up having to lie and tell half-truths.

Her mother sighed. "I don't think it's very good that he's missing work, Gwen."

"He gets bored. He doesn't really like his job so he comes to see me. I know he shouldn't and I've told him not to." She didn't know what else she could say.

"It's obvious to anybody who works with him that he doesn't like his job, but that's no excuse. He's getting paid for all that time he spends skiving and his father's not very happy about it."

Gwen was rather worried now. "Does he think it's my fault?"

Christine was about to answer, but her father interrupted. "If he does, I can tell you now him and I will be having words. I've gotten to know Crouch quite well over the past few months, and from the way he talks about his son I get the impression that the pair of them don't get on well. I'm sure Barty is a perfectly nice young lad, Gwen, but you shouldn't be dragged into any arguments he has with his father. If you've told him to stop seeing you at work then you've done exactly the right thing, and I'll make sure Crouch knows it."

Gwen felt a rush of affection and gratitude towards her father for sticking up for her, but she felt a little bad that she couldn't tell him the whole story. "Thanks, dad. I've, erm, asked him to call on me at home from now on, if that's alright?" She was looking more to her mother than her father for approval, but Christine seemed too tired to really care right now.

"Yes, I suppose that's fine."

Seeing that topic of conversation seemed to be closed (a fact Gwen was rather grateful for) John tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic. "So Gwen," he began, "Tell us more about this Dutch businessman. What's his name, for starters?"

"Sander Westerbeck," Gwen said, proudly showing off her Dutch pronunciation, "He's a part owner of Desdinova Dark Detectors." After that, the conversation went back into much more comfortable territory and Gwen quite enjoyed telling her parents all about Sander and his company. She left out the part about Sander's encounter with Barty, but overall she thought they seemed rather interested to hear about Dutch argentite and the mines at Valkenburg aan de Geul.

Later that night, Gwen went upstairs to bed feeling quite relieved that she'd managed to finally find out what Barty was up to, even if his revelation had come as quite a surprise to her. However, there was one more surprise waiting for her as she entered her bedroom to find there was someone tapping at the window.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Warnings for sex after the –oOo-. But just a little bit, and not really explicit. I don't really like writing sex scenes that much, so I won't do them very often, although I think I've reached a point in the story now where it makes sense for it to happen.  
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**Part Two, Chapter Eight**

Gwen stared at the window and had to blink twice to make sure she wasn't imagining it. She wasn't. Barty Crouch Jr. was definitely just the other side of her window tapping on the glass. Wondering why on earth he'd decided to show up like this at this time in the evening, she quickly shut the bedroom door behind her and crossed to the window. She was scowling her disapproval at him, but he just grinned at her as she opened the window. "Barty, what…what the…what the _hell_ are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Well, you gave me your address so I just thought I'd come and say hi."

"Barty, you can't just…" She was trying to be mad at him, but as she noticed he seemed to be hovering in mid-air outside her window, she couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't annoying – it was quite sweet of him to do this actually, although she wasn't really sure what had prompted it. "You know, you'd have been better off if I had my parents bedroom – there's a tree outside that one."

"I did check that one first, actually, but I didn't think the collection of antique snitches on the bookshelf was likely to be yours."

She felt ever so slightly creeped out that he'd been peering into hers and her parents' bedrooms. "Um…no. Although still, what exactly _are _you doing here?" He looked rather upset at that, and she regretted saying it.

"Do I need a particular reason other than just wanting to see you? I felt bad about having to cancel Saturday, so I thought I'd try and make up for it. Why, would you have preferred it if I hadn't come?"

"No!" she blurted out, desperate to make up for having implied she didn't want him here, when in fact she wanted the exact opposite. "Of course I wouldn't. It's just that, well, your dad's spoken to my mum today and he's not too pleased about you seeing me at work."

He scowled. "Well, you're not at work right now, are you?"

"No, but still. I just…I think it's best if they don't know you're here."

Barty seemed to have gotten over whatever offense he'd taken at her asking why he was here, and he grinned at her. "Well, they don't ever have to find out."

That was true. It wasn't like they were watching her every move. She could probably sneak Barty into her bedroom without them ever realising, and she vaguely wondered if that was the kind of thing other girls had been doing in their teens. "No," she agreed with a smile, before opening the window wider. "You best come in then, before anybody sees you hovering out there."

"Gladly," he said as he scrambled through the window frame, which was slightly too small for him to get through easily. He ended up falling on the floor on the other side, which generated a rather loud thumping sound.

She was tempted to laugh at the undignified manner in which he'd climbed through the window, but realised it was best not to make too much noise. "Shh! You don't want my parents to hear us, do you?"

He got up off the floor rather huffily, looking like he was trying to pretend he'd never fallen on it in the first place. "That won't be a problem," he said, crossing to the door and muttering "_Colloportus_" at the lock and then "_Muffliato_" at the door in general. He then turned back round to grin at her, "There, now they won't have a clue what we're doing."

For some reason Gwen felt slightly uneasy about the fact that he'd locked the door, even though she understood why he'd done it. "What _are_ we going to be doing?"

Suddenly, he quickly crossed back over to her, grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the bed so they landed side by side – her on her stomach and him on his back. She was slightly shocked by the suddenness of it, but didn't feel the need to object.

Rolling over so he was on his side, he grinned at her playfully. "Well, what do you _want _to do?"

_Is that supposed to be suggestive? _she wondered. She thought she didn't mind if it was. Now that she'd found out the truth about what he'd been up to she felt much more at ease around him, and she found herself hoping he was going to take things further. "Well…um…"

As she searched for an answer he moved himself ever so slightly closer to her and reached his hand out to place it on her thigh. At that point, she stopped trying to think of anything to say and simply looked at him, both of them staring into each other's eyes. There was a moment's pause in which it felt to Gwen like the whole world had stopped moving, and then he leant in to kiss her.

-oOo-

Barty felt her tense beneath him as his lips met hers, but then she seemed to relax and he pressed his tongue forward, requesting entry into her mouth, and she responded obligingly. He felt one of her hands slip underneath his shirt to run her fingers over his back, while with the other one she twisted her fingers into his sandy mop of hair and pressed him closer to her, so he couldn't have broken the kiss even if he'd tried.

As he explored the roof of her mouth with his tongue he ran his hand up over her abdomen until he reached the collar of her blouse, where he began to unbutton it. As he reached the third button he slipped his fingers under the material for a moment to stroke the smooth skin underneath, and he heard her give a faint moan as she grabbed the hem of his shirt and began to try to pull it off. He was so caught up in the moment he almost forgot that the lights were still on, but then remembered if she managed to undress him now she quite clearly be able to see his Dark Mark tattoo. Quickly, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wand to put the light out, before tossing it to the side as she pulled his shirt over his head and threw that on the floor to join it. If she thought there was anything odd about him turning the lights out she didn't show it, but just continued to kiss him passionately.

He was enjoying this, and not just because he knew it would spite his father. He genuinely enjoyed being with her. Somehow, she made everything else that had happened today seem much less important. Right now he really wasn't interested in thinking of anything else except her.

As he finally managed to unbutton her blouse and pull it off her shoulders, she pulled back from his lips just half an inch to mutter something through the kiss. "You know…what's weird is…I feel like…we've done this…before."

He stiffened slightly at the words. They _had_ done this before, but of course she wouldn't remember. That might be a little difficult for him if she started to want to talk about it.

She seemed to notice the change in him, and stopped kissing him for a moment to look at him, squinting slightly to try and discern his expression in the dark. "Is something wrong?"

She sounded genuinely concerned. Probably worried she'd messed up, as usual. He thought if he continued to act like normal she'd think nothing more of it. He didn't want to spoil this. "No, nothing," he said earnestly, before pressing his lips to hers again as he pushed her back down on the bed and unhooked her bra strap.

They quickly ended up undressed and tangled up in the bedsheets, grateful for the silencing charm that stifled the moans coming from them both.

Neither of them noticed the scrawny brown rat at the window looking in on them.

**A/N: Yes, I know pervy Peter is creepy, but it is sort of important to the story. I'm probably not going to write anything like that again for a while because I find it really difficult, but I wanted the challenge of writing it even if I only made it very short and implicit. Hope it was alright, and I'm probably going to try something completely different next chapter so I hope you like that too.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Something a little different this chapter. Hope you like it!  
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**Part Two, Chapter Ten**

The atmosphere in Dumbledore's office was tense. Behind the desk, the headmaster himself was sat with a grave expression on his face, surveying the man in front of him. The man in question was tall, thin and looked to be in his mid twenties, with long, oily black hair and a hooked nose. He seemed restless, as if he was trying to contain some kind of emotion, and was shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. Behind him and off to his left by the door stood an elderly witch in green robes and a tall pointed hat, who was watching the scene cautiously. She was thin and severe-looking, and appeared to be waiting to step in should something happen out of hand. On Dumbledore's other side a man was sat in a chair by the window, staring vacantly out towards the lake and seemingly oblivious to the presence of the three other people in the room. His light brown hair was highlighted silver where pale light from the silver crescent moon fell upon it, but there was no light in his eyes. On the contrary, they seemed dead and forlorn, as if he'd resigned himself to misery.

The first to speak was the man stood in front of his desk, and when he did so his voice seemed deliberately calm and controlled. He seemed to be trying to prevent himself from allowing his restrained anger to show through. "Why is more not being done to find Black?"

The question was directed at Dumbledore, who scrutinized the man from behind his half moon glasses before making his reply in the same calm, measured tone. "I have assurances from the Ministry, Severus, that they are doing everything they can to round up the Death Eaters that remain at large. In addition to the protection of this school, finding the man responsible for the death of the Potters is their main priority."

Snape clenched his jaw as he fought to remain calm. "I didn't mean the Ministry, I meant you and the Order. What exactly are you doing about it?"

"Moody and the other aurors are out there now searching for the Death Eaters, as you know."

Dumbledore studied Snape's reaction carefully, and was not surprised to see the frustration that showed through in the way the young man kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Understandably, Snape seemed to be trying very hard to get a grip on the emotional turmoil he was in. "But why not Black specifically? Surely you know something that could help us find him? _He _could help us!" Snape said, spitting out the last sentence disdainfully as he jabbed a finger in the direction of the man sat by the window, who didn't react at all.

Dumbledore leant forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the desk and steeple his fingers in front of him, and surveyed Snape with a thoughtful expression. "It is important to remember that we do not know exactly what as happened, and since you do not know the exact identity of the informant we can assume nothing about the situation."

"I didn't even know there _was _an informant until the last minute!" Snape snapped, beginning to lose his composure. "The Dark Lord doesn't tell _all _of his followers _everything, _you know. I came to you as soon as I found out, but by then it was…too late." The last part of the sentence was added quietly, as if Snape's anger had subsided into nothing but remorse and regret.

Dumbledore responded in the same calm tone he had been using throughout the conversation. "We must also take into account the fact that Peter Pettigrew has disappeared too, and we must not jump to conclusions until we know why both Sirius and Peter have chosen to vanish."

"Well, why don't you ask _him,_" Snape repeated again, turning to glare at the man sat staring out at the lake.

At last, this provoked some kind of response from Lupin, who turned his head slowly to face the others in the room. "He's gone after Pa…after Black." Lupin spoke the words quietly, as if he didn't really want to believe they were true. "Peter's gone after Black."

Snape turned back to Dumbledore. "There you are then," he said bitterly. "So why aren't there more aurors out there trying to hunt him down?"

Dumbledore gave a small shake of his head. "Severus, we cannot know for sure the identity of the informant. We must not accuse Sirius before the Ministry investigation has established exactly what happened."

Snape again turned to glare at Lupin. "So it could have been him then?" he spat, "After all, we don't know who they chose as their secret keeper. For all we know, he's set his friends up to look guilty and now he's sat there laughing while everyone else runs round after Pettigrew and Black." The final sentence seemed to be more of a mocking sneer than a genuine accusation, but it finally seemed to prompt Lupin to display some signs of life.

Rising quickly from the chair and rounding on Snape, Lupin whipped his wand out and pointed at him. "You dare…how dare you accuse me of that! I would never, you understand? I would never do that to Lily and James!" The dead look in Lupin's eyes had been replaced with one of pure fury.

Snape was just reaching for his own wand, but it was McGonagall, who'd been silently observing the conversation thus far, who intervened. "Boys!" she said, as if they were both still just unruly students she had to reprimand. "Put your wands away and _listen _to what Professor Dumbledore has said. We _cannot _know for sure exactly what has happened, and throwing insults and accusations at each other will do nothing to help."

Snape and Lupin glared at each other for a few more seconds, but then did as McGonagall as instructed and put their wands away before turning to face Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gave a sad, heavy sigh before speaking again. "We do not know the identity of the informant who betrayed the Potters, but it is only possible that it could have been one of three men who may have been chosen to act as the Potters' secret keeper. Remus, since you are here and having this conversation with us, can you confirm it wasn't you?"

A flash of anger crossed Lupin's face again, but he knew Dumbledore wasn't really accusing him. "No, I swear it wasn't me."

Dumbledore nodded. "And I believe you, Remus. Which means it must be either Peter Pettigrew or Sirius Black."

There was silence in the room for a few seconds as that final sentence sank in. It was Snape who broke the silence. "Then, if only one of them is guilty why have they both gone on the run?"

Dumbledore observed the two young men in front of him, thinking how they both seemed so close to emotional breaking point, even though they were showing it in such drastically different ways. He sighed sadly again. It seemed this war was going to break them all. "It is possible that one of them, in their anger, has gone after the other, although if we are to take into account all possibilities we must also consider that they may be…"

"In on it together," Lupin finished, his voice barely more than a whisper. He seemed to be trying not to cry.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it is a possibility. But as I have said, we must not jump to conclusions. Now…" he said, rising from his seat, "Severus, if you wish to continue to be of help it may be best that you contact some Death Eaters and find out where they are and what they are planning, and you may also need to find an explanation for your absence on Tuesday night. Remus…" Dumbledore turned to Lupin, who had his shoulders hunched defensively and seemed to be trying hard to keep it together. "I would suggest that you go home, but it doesn't seem very likely that you would follow this instruction." Lupin shook his head. "Therefore I suggest that you go with Professor McGonagall back to headquarters where I expect Moody will be reporting shortly. I can assure you I will keep you both informed of how the Ministry investigation progresses, but right now I must attend a meeting with the Minister for Magic. I'll let Minerva show you out."

The conversation was officially over, and Lupin and Snape followed McGonagall to the door of the office, making a point of not looking at each other. Dumbledore crossed to the window and waited until they were gone, before taking advantage of his privileges as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and disapparated.

**A/N: There you are, something a bit different because I thought it would be important to tell the story of everything else that's going on aside from Gwen and Barty, but we'll be going back to them next chapter. Also, I'm really hoping to get to the part with Martijn soon, but I don't want to introduce him before I'm ready and at the moment it just doesn't feel like I'm going to reach that point in the story for at least a couple more chapters. I hope you don't mind waiting! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Two, Chapter Ten  
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The sun was just beginning to set as Barty stood alone in the street outside the East London townhouse. He walked up towards the door and knocked twice, before stepping back a couple of paces to stand beside the trunk he'd brought with him. As he waited for the door to be answered, it gave him time to think back on everything that had happened that day.

He'd left Gwen earlier that morning long before she'd woken up, so as to avoid her seeing the Dark Mark on his arm, but he'd left a note explaining that he was sorry to go but had to work early. Although she'd probably be disappointed that he'd left without saying goodbye, he really hoped she wouldn't be too upset. Part of him worried that, being Gwen, she'd probably think it was her fault and think she'd done something to cause him to leave early, but despite feeling bad about it he knew he wasn't in any position to be worrying about that now.

It hadn't been a lie about needing to work early, and he'd had to go home to change into his work clothes. When he'd left Gwen's house he'd tried to immediately apparate back to his own bedroom, but when he'd tried nothing had happened. He'd tried again with the same result. Realising it wasn't going to work, he'd instead decided to apparate to just outside his back door and hope he could sneak inside the house without anybody noticing. The door was locked, of course, but he could quickly take care of that with '_alohomora_'. Or at least that was what he'd thought. As it turned out, the spell had no effect on the lock despite him trying it five times, and he was just considering using a hover charm to get up to his bedroom window when the door was opened from the inside. Barty looked back to the door to see his father staring out at him. Crouch Sr. didn't seem angry. Instead, he seemed strangely triumphant, which worried Barty somewhat. When he spoke, his tone was completely calm, but frosty. "I don't suppose I need to ask where you've been."

Barty glared at him, realising the man had just assumed he'd been with Gwen. He didn't know Barty well enough to come to any other conclusion. "Not that it's any of your business anyway."

"Maybe not," Crouch replied, in the same cool tone, "Although I do think it's my business when you enter and leave my house."

Realisation suddenly dawned on Barty. "Did you put an anti-apparition charm on the house?" he asked, both angry and incredulous. He didn't think his father would ever actually have gone so far as to prevent him apparating inside his own home.

Crouch nodded. "Yes. I don't want my house to be used just as a convenient place for you to stay anymore. From now on you can tell me when and where it is you're coming and going, or you won't be going out at all."

Barty was livid. "Or what?" he said, his tone challenging.

"Or you can find somewhere else to live. Is that clear?"

"I'm almost twenty, father. You can't possibly expect me to…"

"I said is that clear?"

Barty just glared furiously at his father for a few more seconds, before realising that wasn't even a difficult ultimatum. "Yes, father. Perfectly clear," he'd replied.

And now here he was. Waiting to be let in to a house he hoped he'd be permitted to stay at.

His father had ignored him all day at work, not that they saw much of each other anyway, and Crouch Sr. had been quite surprised when he'd arrived home that evening to find Barty levitating a trunk down the stairs. Despite his initial surprise, in the end he had seemed not to care. Barty's mother, on the other hand, was significantly more bothered by it all. She'd been immensely upset at first when she realised what he was doing – she'd tried to get him to tell her what was wrong, wanted to know what had happened between him and his father, asked if he wanted to talk about it, suggested maybe they could sort something out. In the end she'd even cried a little, but it didn't make any difference. If that bastard didn't want Barty living in his house anymore, then there was no way Barty was going to stay where he wasn't wanted.

It was getting more difficult for him to keep his involvement with the Death Eaters secret anyway. It had probably worked out for the better like this.

A couple of minutes passed during which Barty considered knocking again, but then realised that if the occupants _were _in it was probably best not to piss them off with insistent knocking. He was beginning to worry that maybe nobody was home at all, and that they'd be forced to move out for whatever reason – after all, Barty knew them to be high on the Ministry's list of Death Eater suspects – but then the door opened a crack and Barty saw the face of Rodolphus Lestrange peering out at him.

The man's angry and cautious expression turned to one of surprise when he recognised Barty. "Crouch? What are you doing here?"

Barty shrugged. "I've been kicked out."

"What do you mean you've…he's not onto you, is he?"

"Not yet, although if I don't move out now he soon will be."

Rodolphus looked exasperated. "And what? Now you're here to ask to stay with us?"

Barty nodded. "Pretty much."

Rodolphus just glared at him for a few more seconds, as if considering whether or not to turn him away, and then opened the door wider and gestured for Barty to come inside. "Get in," he said irritably, before quickly glancing up and down the street and whipping out his wand to levitate Barty's trunk inside before Barty had chance to do so himself.

Inside the townhouse was rather dark and dingy, and the plaster on the walls of the narrow hallway Barty now found himself in was yellow and cracked. Barty had never actually been inside the house before and was rather shocked by its semi-dilapidated state. It wasn't the sort of place he would have imagined Bellatrix and Rodolphus living in, even if it was never intended to be their permanent address.

"You wait here," Rodolphus instructed Barty. "This isn't a 'yes'. It's just that I'd rather not discuss this out in the street."

He was about to head upstairs when Barty shot another question at him. "Where's Bellatrix?"

Rodolphus seemed to be about to answer, but was interrupted by a loud banging sound coming from upstairs, followed quickly by the sound of glass shattering and two things crashing into each other.

Barty glanced up at the ceiling to where he could see the light fixtures shaking slightly, and then looked back at Rodolphus with a quizzical expression.

"That would be Bella," the Death Eater replied.

**A/N: I wanted to include more of the other Death Eaters in this story, and now I think I'm going to. From now on I'm going to try and update on either Thursday or Friday each week, or at least until July, when I'm hoping I'll be able to update two or three times a week.  
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	11. Chapter 11

**Part Two, Chapter Eleven**

_Rodolphus seemed to be about to answer, but was interrupted by a loud banging sound coming from upstairs, followed quickly by the sound of glass shattering and two things crashing into each other. _

_Barty glanced up at the ceiling to where he could see the light fixtures shaking slightly, and then looked back at Rodolphus with a quizzical expression._

"_That would be Bella," the Death Eater replied._

Rodolphus didn't offer any further explanation, but simply turned and began to head up the stairs. Deciding that he'd rather like to know what had caused the banging, Barty ignored Rodolphus' instruction to stay put and began to follow him upstairs. Realising he was being followed, Rodolphus paused on the first floor landing and turned to glare at Barty for a couple of moments, but then gave a roll of his eyes as if to say, 'well, if you _must_," and proceeded towards a room further down the corridor above the hallway. Barty followed a few feet behind Rodolphus and hung back a little as the older Death Eater opened the door to the room, slightly apprehensive about whatever it was Bellatrix had been doing in there. As the door was opened Barty could make out several shards of glass scattered across the floor, and in the corner of the doorway he could see a viscous red substance beginning to flow between them. He could also hear a faint chuckling coming from within the room as Bellatrix seemed to be laughing to herself.

Rodolphus remained standing in the doorway of the room, surveying the scene in front of him that Barty still couldn't quite make out. "Bella, what exactly have you been doing?" he said in a tone that seemed mildly annoyed.

Barty thought he heard Bellatrix laugh again. "Well, the mudblood bitch said she couldn't remember where they'd traced the apparition to, so I thought a hit to the head might jog her memory."

In the dim light, Barty could see Rodolphus frown as he looked at the pieces of broken glass scattered across the floor. "That was an expensive mirror."

"Oh really, Rodolphus," Bellatrix snapped back, "I'm trying to find out what has happened to our Master and you're more bothered about a mirror! Not really what I'd expect from someone who claims to be devoted to the Dark Lord."

Rodolphus definitely looked irritated. "Bella, you're not exactly…oh, you know what? You're right. It's a mirror. It's not even important. I do however need to talk to you about the visitor we've got standing in the hallway."

Barty sensed the atmosphere become much more tense as Bellatrix replied. "What visitor?"

As Rodolphus stepped further into the room Barty took that as his cue to follow, and was quite shocked by the sight he saw once he was inside. At one end of the room there was a large wooden frame to what must have once been a mirror, although now all the glass had been shattered and the various pieces scattered across the floor. Among the fragments at the bottom of the mirror was the unconscious body of a witch, who was bleeding heavily from several cuts where the glass had punctured her skin. There was a deep gash in her forehead and the skin around both of her eyes was purple and swollen, as if she'd subjected to a particularly nasty beating before being slammed against the mirror on the wall.

It wasn't just the sight of her in such a bloody mess that shocked Barty. It was the fact he recognised her. He knew her from work – her name was Laura Edmondson and she was secretary to one of the department's spell surveyors. He hadn't seen her today, but he'd just assumed she was still down at Godric's Hollow working on the investigation. Now it looked like that hadn't been the case.

Realising what Bellatrix must have been up to, Barty licked his lips nervously and gave a timid glance in her direction. She glared back at him.

"Crouch? What's he doing here?" Her question was directed at Rodolphus, and Barty thought that it was best he didn't speak.

"He tells me he's been kicked out by his father. Now it looks like he wants to know if he can stay with us."

Bellatrix was surveying Barty as if he was some kind of laboratory specimen she was about to experiment on, and even though Barty was trying his best to meet her gaze and not look intimidated, it was difficult not to cower under her stare. "His father doesn't know what he's been up to, does he?" Again, she addressed Rodolphus even though she kept her gaze locked on Barty.

Barty just shook his head, too nervous to say anything, but it was Rodolphus who vocalised his response. "He says not."

Suddenly, Bellatrix's whole demeanour changed and she gave a little laugh as she skipped over to Rodolphus, before resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in close to stage-whisper, "Well, what do _you_ think, _darling? _Do you think we should let the little boy stay?" It was quite clearly an exaggerated act, intended to wind Barty up, but he wasn't going to rise to the bait. Bellatrix enjoyed having that kind of power over people, but he didn't want to let her win. He'd spent too long having other people try and exercise power over him, and he'd come here to try and prove that he wasn't going to let himself be bossed around by anybody else. He wanted to show that he could manage just fine on his own, and even though he knew he'd be screwed if the Lestranges turned him down for a place to stay, he wasn't going to let them know that. He wasn't going to let Bellatrix Lestrange know just how desperate he was so that she could tease and torment him. Instead, he was going to pretend he didn't care.

Refusing to let her provoke him, Barty didn't react to Bella's teasing, but just kept watching her and Rodolphus with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

Rodolphus looked thoughtful. "Well, as long as you're alright with it I don't see any reason why not."

Bellatrix laughed again. "Oh, I think I'd be alright with it. Although, don't you agree that there should be some kind of payment? So the boy can show us his gratitude for letting him stay with us?"

Even though Barty was trying not to let himself get frustrated, he was somewhat riled by the way they were talking about him as if he wasn't even in the room, and he felt the need to assert himself. "Don't worry, even without my father's money I'm not so poor that I can't afford to pay rent."

Bellatrix fixed him with a harsh stare, and again Barty tried to hold her gaze even though he felt an overwhelming urge to look away. "I'm not talking about money, Crouch, what use do you think that would be to us?" Her tone was both cold and challenging. "I'm talking about something else. Something to show to us that it is worth our effort to have you staying in this house. I want to see a display of loyalty from you."

Barty wasn't sure where this was going, but he thought it couldn't be good. He swallowed nervously and licked his lips again, still struggling to look Bellatrix in the eye. "Like what?"

"You see that piece of mudblood scum over there?" Bellatrix said, indicating the unconscious body lying at the foot of the mirror. "She's got a record of the destinations of all disapparitions from Godric's hollow on Tuesday evening. One of those apparitions _must _be Wormtail, and it may even be possible that one of them is our Master. It's just a shame that the forgetful little bitch can't remember where exactly the apparition trail leads to."

As Barty realised where this was going he felt a growing sense of unease.

"You know who she is, don't you, Crouch?" Bellatrix spat at him.

Barty nodded. "She works in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement." His voice came out strangely choked.

"And that's where you work, isn't it?"

Again, Barty nodded.

"Well, tomorrow morning, she's going to go back into work. She's going to be all cleaned up and probably nobody's going to notice anything different about her. Except, of course, there _will _be something different about her. She's going to be under the Imperius Curse that _you _put on her, Crouch, and you're going to make sure she finds that apparition report she's been keeping in her desk and hands it to you. You're then going to bring it back to us and we're going to use it to help find our Master. I think that's a satisfactory way for you to prove your dedication to the Dark Lord, don't you agree?"

Barty didn't respond. He was still trying to process everything she'd just said. Even though he wanted to prove to her he was just as good a Death Eater as she was, he knew the risks would be immense. It was difficult to even comprehend doing something like this inside the Ministry of Magic, especially when he'd never done anything even remotely like this before.

Bellatrix turned to her husband. "Rodolphus?"

The Death Eater nodded. "Yes, I think that's a satisfactory way to prove to us that letting you stay here is worth the while."

Bellatrix turned back to Barty again, a manic glint in her eye as she spoke the challenge again. "Well, do you think you can do that, Crouch?"

Barty stared back at her, meeting her gaze with a look just as hard as her own. He'd reached a resolution. Despite the risks, despite the implications of going through with it, Bartemius Crouch Jr. was not one to back down from a challenge. He was just as good, just as _loyal, _as the rest of them, and he was going to prove it. When he answered her, there wasn't even a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Yes, Bellatrix, I can."

**A/N: I'm delaying the appearance of Martijn again, I'm afraid. He's just waiting to make his entrance, but I keep getting inspiration for other bits of the story that are getting in the way. Hope you don't mind waiting a bit longer.**

**Just to let you know, I've also done a video to go with this story which I've uploaded to YouTube. It's a sort of teaser trailer for what's to come, but there are a few red herrings and don't assume that what _appears_ to happen in the video is actually what's going to happen. If anyone's interested I've put the link on my profile page, as they don't work when you try and upload it in a story.  
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	12. Chapter 12

**Part Two, Chapter Twelve**

John didn't much like having to work Saturdays. He'd much rather be at home, in his armchair with a good book (usually a Western, like the ones his muggle father used to have) or losing to Gwen at a game of wizard chess (she beat him so often he sometimes regretted ever having taught her how to play). But he knew that if he ever was called in to work on weekends it was always for a good reason, and on this occasion it was for a meeting with Barty Crouch Sr., Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel.

He'd already decided he was going to make a point of speaking to Crouch in private afterwards. He'd noticed that Gwen had seemed rather subdued and upset yesterday, and even though she insisted nothing was wrong he could tell otherwise. John was fairly certain it had something to do with Barty Crouch – although whether it was Jr. or Sr. he wasn't entirely sure. He thought it was possible that Crouch Jr. might have done something to upset her, although given the way she'd been defending him on Thursday evening he thought it was more likely she'd been upset at the way his father had been blaming her. Or maybe she was upset with them both. Either way, John thought he had a few issues to settle with Crouch.

When John arrived at the meeting room on the seventh floor the chief goblin, Elrex, was already inside waiting. John rather wished he wasn't. The others hadn't arrived yet and John didn't particularly like being left alone in the company of goblins. They all seemed to have the same stern, sour attitude, and John found them impossible to have a normal conversation with. He hoped the others would arrive soon, so that they could get down to business.

"Morning, Elrex," John said stiffly as he took a seat at the table opposite Elrex.

"Good morning, Mr Coulthard," the goblin replied in a tone that was rather cold and serious. He said nothing else, and few moments passed in silence which John found rather awkward. Elrex seemed to be completely indifferent to whether John was in the room or not, and John felt like he should say something to assert his presence.

"Are those the security files for Vault 713?" he asked, nodding to the folder on the table in front of Elrex.

"Yes."

That was all the response he got, and John was beginning to get the sense of annoyance he usually felt when dealing with goblins. Even after all these years they were no easier to deal with. "Mind if I have a quick look before the others get here?"

Elrex gave John a look that might have been a glare (or it could just have been his ordinary way of looking at people – John still couldn't tell the difference) and slid the folder across the table to him. John was just about to open it when the door to the room opened again and in walked Maurice Redknapp accompanied by Barty Crouch Sr.

John abandoned the folder and got up to greet them. On the other side of the table Elrex hopped off his chair to do the same, his expression still not changing in the slightest. John greeted Crouch first with a handshake and a friendly smile. "Barty, it's good to see you again." Despite the conversation he was planning on having with him later, John genuinely meant it.

Crouch, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the energy to return his enthusiasm. "And you, John, although it would be nice if one day we could meet in less serious circumstances." He seemed rather tired and stressed, and John thought the demands of work must be getting to him. He couldn't help but feel ever so slightly sorry for the Ministerial Head of Department, realising how difficult he must be finding things in the current circumstances, but at the same time that wasn't going to stop him from saying what he had to later. No matter how much he liked Crouch, John wasn't going to let him get away with upsetting his daughter.

John had just finished greeting Redknapp and they were all about to take their places at the table, when the door opened again and Gringotts' third executive, Oscar Lytton, entered the meeting room. Following behind him were two wizards – one a tall, elderly wizard with a long white beard and half moon spectacles, and the other who – in appearance at least – seemed slightly younger, and had a short, grey beard and moustache. Professor Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel - they were two of the most respected men in the wizarding world, and it had been they who had requested this meeting.

Following the customary greetings, the six men and one goblin in the room finally sat down to discuss business. Lytton began the meeting by giving brief details about the scheduled review of security measures in place on Vault 713, but then handed over to Dumbledore to elaborate the case more.

Dumbledore cleared his throat discreetly before beginning. "As you know, for the past three centuries the Philosopher's Stone has been kept in this bank in a vault belonging to Nicolas Flamel, which is at the highest level of security. The vault is only opened once every ten years to allow Mr Flamel to use the stone to produce a fresh batch of elixir for his and his wife's upkeep. The next opening of the vault is scheduled in a month's time, but in light of recent events, Nicolas and I have been discussing changes we would like to make to the security arrangements surrounding the stone."

Dumbledore then nodded to Flamel, and the others in the room turned to face him as he continued to outline the plans. "As you are aware," Flamel said, with only the faintest trace of a French accent in his voice, "There are several Death Eaters currently at large who wish to find their master. Their master in question has suffered badly at the hands of his own killing curse, but is no doubt still intent on finding a way of returning to power. In his current weakened state, it makes sense that he and his followers would be seeking for a way to restore him to a strengthened corporeal form, and the Philosopher's Stone is the ideal candidate for this task. Therefore we would like to request the co-operation of the Bank of Gringotts and the Department for Magical Law Enforcement in improving the Stone's security."

Once Flamel had finished he looked to the three bank executives and the Goblin Chief of Staff for a response, but it was Crouch who responded first. "What do you mean about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named 'finding a way of returning to power?'"

Flamel gave him a look as if he couldn't understand why he was being asked. "I mean just that, Mr Crouch."

"How can he return to power if he's dead?" Crouch's tone seemed rather hostile.

Flamel was about to reply, but Dumbledore interjected, "Ah, Bartemius, you've made the mistake that so many others in the wizarding world have made. Do not assume that just because he is gone he is dead. Nicolas is right to say it is likely Lord Voldemort will see the Stone as a means of returning to power."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dumbledore," Crouch definitely seemed irritated, "You-Know-Who is dead, end of story. My main focus right now is on rounding up the Death Eaters that remain at large, not on improving the security around an artefact that no-one has ever before succeeded in stealing."

"But do you know for sure Lord Voldemort is dead, Bartemius?" Dumbledore said quite calmly.

Crouch, like the others in the room, was slightly bothered by Dumbledore's use of You-Know-Who's name but was trying not to show it. His response was just as snappish as ever. "No, but that is what all the evidence in our investigation points to, and it would take a lot of hard evidence to suggest otherwise."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid your investigation has not been presented with _all_ the evidence, Bartemius. There are some things the Department of Mysteries keeps secret even from you."

"Well, they say they've shown me everything that's relevant, and right now that's good enough for me. Maybe we'll have time to do a more thorough investigation once all the Death Eater's are in Azkaban, but at the moment I don't have the time or resources to be dealing with hypothetical scenarios in which You-Know-Who might still be alive."

Dumbledore could have responded again, but Lytton got in there first. "Bartemius, I really don't think which should write off Dumbledore's proposals just yet. Even if You-Know-Who is gone completely, it's still possible that his followers might seek to steal the stone in the belief that it will bring their master back."

John was studying Crouch's responses to the various points being put to him very carefully. It seemed as though Crouch was trying to dismiss the case as quickly as possible. That was quite unusual for Crouch, John thought. Even if Crouch was stressed, he was still normally completely focussed on every aspect of his job, but this time it seemed as if something else was bothering him.

"Well, if they're all in Azkaban they can't exactly go after it, can they? Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, Mr Flamel, but the Department currently cannot afford to stretch its resources any more than it already has. If we invested in increasing the security on the Stone now we'd have to take a lot of staff away from tracking down Death Eaters, and we simply can't do it."

Thinking Crouch's outright dismissal of the case was unjustified, John decided to say something. "Barty, I accept it may be difficult for you to find the staff for it right now, but I don't think Professor Dumbledore would have suggested it if he didn't think it was something we should prioritise."

"Well," said Crouch, looking at John huffily, "I, as the overseer of the Potter investigation, think Professor Dumbledore is wrong."

"Bartemius," it was Redknapp this time. "I know you don't think it's a good idea, but my wife's the American liaison officer with the Department of Mysteries, and her recommendations from the Bureau in Washington are that we focus our efforts on denying the Death Eaters anything they may use to gain the upper hand…"

"Well, I think putting them in Azkaban ought to do that!" Crouch snapped, "Are the Americans prepared to put up money and aurors for this? Because, if not, I'm not going to let them dictate how I run this operation."

Redknapp gave Crouch a slightly angry look, but then it disappeared as he glanced over at John, accepting that Crouch's bullishness was most likely born out of stress and not genuine hostility.

"Perhaps we should consult with one of your aurors about this?" Lytton suggested, "Maybe Alastor Moody?"

"I don't need Moody's opinion," Crouch said irritably, "He works for _me, _not the other way round."

Realising Crouch was not in a mood to be reasoned with, silence descended in the room as everybody tried to avoid an argument with the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat as the only person in the room who had yet to say something decided to speak. "You are making the assumption that all the security measures need to be implemented by wizards," said Elrex in his deep, hoarse voice. "I can assure you that _goblin_ magic is unmatched when it comes to keeping artefacts safe, and we can provide a primary level of security on the stone that would be of little cost to your department, Mr Crouch. However, we are limited by the nature of our storage facilities. A vault is a vault, and we cannot provide any degree of protection beyond the vault or outside the bank. If the threat of attack becomes too high it may be necessary for the Ministry or others to implement a secondary level of security beyond what the bank is able to provide, but I think it the current circumstances it would not be unreasonable to allow the security alterations to go ahead if the Ministry is prepared to invest more in it at a later date."

Following Elrex's speech there were a few more moments of silence as the wizards considered his proposals, and then Dumbledore spoke again, "I think that is a highly sensible suggestion, Bartemius, don't you agree?"

Crouch looked at Dumbledore, clearly still reluctant to agree to it. "I'll have someone at the Department draw up a protocol for if the threat of the Stone is deemed too high, but that's all I can promise. Is that satisfactory for you?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Bartemius, I think we can make that arrangement work."

At that point Flamel spoke again, "Could Dumbledore and I be provided with a copy of the protocol, please?"

"Yes, I'll have copies forwarded to you and the bank."

"Very well," said Lytton, who seemed quite keen to round up the meeting. Crouch's hostile attitude had been quite unpleasant for all of them. "Are there any other particular points you would like to bring up Professor Dumbledore, Mr Flamel?"

Dumbledore and Flamel exchanged glances as if to ask the other if they had anything more they wished to say, but it seemed that they didn't. "No, thank you, Oscar," Dumbledore said "We'll be in correspondence once we've received more details of the plans. Hopefully before the vault is next due to be opened?" Dumbledore glanced at Crouch for confirmation of that last sentence, who gave a stiff nod.

"Very well, then, gentlemen," said Redknapp to finish off. "I think that's everything for today. I'm sure we'll all keep in touch in order to co-ordinate the bank's plans with the Department."

"Yes, I think that will be all then," Crouch said as they all began to get up from the table, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to trying to find Sirius Black." He was the first man to leave the room and was heading off quickly down the corridor before most of the others had even risen from their seats. John still wanted to talk to him and was beginning to head after him, but then realised it was probably pointless to do so now. Crouch really did seem to be in a hurry and was quite clearly stressed, although John got the impression that perhaps it wasn't entirely to do with work. Work stress was something Crouch could handle, but he hadn't seemed to have handled that at all well just now. Even though John really was no expert on Crouch's family life, he was prepared to guess that it had something to do with his son. Which meant that it probably also had something to do with Gwen, at least to some extent. John didn't want to put off talking to Crouch any longer than he had to, especially if it meant going back home to a miserable daughter again today. That conversation wasn't going to wait. Perhaps it just necessitated an after-work call on the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part Two, Chapter Thirteen**

Gwen had indeed been upset the morning after her night with Barty. It hadn't been the way in which he'd left without waking her – she thought the explanation he'd left in his note had been quite reasonable and although disappointing, she could understand it. What had upset her was that when she'd opened the drawer on her bedside cabinet that morning, she'd found Sander's auroscope still glowing faintly blue.

She'd spent most of Friday at work trying to work out the reason for it. Barty had told her he'd been using dark magic for the project at the Department of Mysteries, but that was defunct now so surely he couldn't still be involved with it? Residual magic, maybe? Was that even possible? She didn't know. It had crossed her mind that the auroscope had started glowing because maybe she'd been betraying Sander somehow by being with Barty, and even though thinking about that made her uncomfortable it probably wasn't the real reason anyway. Sander had said the auroscope would behave like a normal sneakoscope if anyone was doing anything untrustworthy (although the silencing charm she'd put on it stopped it whistling), but it would only light up and go blue if there was dark magic nearby. And there hadn't been any dark magic nearby that she'd been aware of.

Unless there was still dark magic around Barty that he didn't know about. Or – dare she even think it? – he'd lied to her. The thought of that hurt, and although she didn't want to think the worst of him, she had to admit it was a possibility.

Ideally, she wanted to be able to see him to talk to him about it, but she didn't know when she'd next get the chance. There was no way he was going to be able to come to see her at work now, and she didn't dare to try and go see him at the weekend after what his father had said about them meeting during work hours. She'd thought about asking her mother to speak to him at work, but she had no idea what to ask her to say. And besides, she'd only end up facing her mother's relentless questioning – which was probably well-intentioned, but something Gwen would rather avoid, all the same. On Friday evening she'd been holding out in the hope that maybe Barty had taken the initiative and asked Christine to pass a message on to her, but he hadn't. She'd even hoped that just maybe he'd sent her an owl, even though she wasn't sure what she'd been wanting him to say in a letter, but he hadn't done that either.

The whole thing had left her in a rather sullen mood. Her father had noticed, but she didn't want to tell him what was really the matter. Everything was just too _complicated _to involve other people, and she wanted to sort things out between her and Barty for herself. She had eventually managed to get her father to stop asking what was wrong, and even though he didn't seem convinced she was relieved he had backed down. Gwen hoped that she'd be able to see Barty and get things sorted soon, before her mother finally found the time and energy to notice what was going on outside of the Ministry and start questioning her as well.

As it was, on Saturday Gwen found herself to be alone in the house as the only member of her family not at work – something that she hated – and still in the dark about what was going on with Barty. It may be that there was a perfectly innocent explanation for the auroscope's behaviour. Maybe it _was _just residual magic or whatever, but she'd still like the chance to talk to him, even if she didn't know how she would go about doing it. She didn't like confronting people, and every time she thought about how she might raise the issue of the auroscope with Barty she remembered how he'd reacted to it when they'd met behind Flourish and Blotts. She just didn't know what to say to him without upsetting him or somehow implying she didn't trust him. But the truth was, she _couldn't _trust him, no matter how much she wanted to.

Oh, it was all too _complicated._

At around lunchtime on Saturday she decided she was going to go out after all, just to get out of the house and try and take her mind off things. The enchanted chess set she'd been having solo matches with all morning really wasn't half as good to play against as her father, and she'd quickly gotten bored of it. There really wasn't much else for her to do in the house, so she decided to go to Diagon Alley for a couple of hours, even if there wasn't anything she needed to shop for.

There was always one shop she liked to visit in Diagon Alley – the Mabinogian Apothecary. The Welsh witch Llinos Eynon had bought the shop in 1931 after marrying the muggle accountant Lawrence Coulthard, and had made a decent income from it before temporarily closing the apothecary to work as a healer during the war. After Lawrence was killed in the assault on Sword Beach, Llinos had returned to the shop to raise her almost teenage son John, and many years later she'd retired as successful businesswoman, proud to have seen her son become one of the country's most successful wizarding bankers. Even though Gwen's grandmother had retired from her job there several years ago now, Gwen still remembered visiting when she was younger and being given free candy potions and getting to play with 'pet' flobberworms her Gran kept. She didn't really know the people who had bought the shop all that well, but she liked to call in every now and then just to see how it was doing. The shop was now owned by a middle-aged couple from Cornwall called Adrian and Patrice, and Gwen had found them quite pleasant on the few occasions she'd spoken to them.

The first thing she noticed today though was that neither Ady's ginger bearded face nor Paddy's blond curls and wide smile were behind the counter. Instead it was a man who looked to be in his mid thirties, with sleek black hair and a fine moustache who she didn't recognise at all. She was slightly shocked when she first noticed him, but then supposed he just must be another one of their staff and didn't think much more of it. "Hello," she said, smiling as she walked further into the shop.

He gave her a curt nod. "Afternoon."

There was only the two of them in the shop, and since she wasn't planning on buying anything she thought she ought to make the effort to talk to him. "No Robinsons today?"

"They've gone away."

"Oh." His abrupt manner made her think he wasn't interested in conversation after all, and she wondered if maybe she should just continue browsing. "Er, back soon, I hope?"

"Maybe."

He definitely didn't seem like much of a talker, but she felt too awkward to simply walk away now. "You're shopkeeping for them, I take it?"

"Actually, I'm just waiting for somebody."

"Oh, er, ok…" She was looking at the shelves behind him, trying to see if there was anything she could pretend to be interested in buying to give her an excuse for something to say. But then suddenly, there was a hissing sound off to her right and she jumped as she turned to see a rather large snake that was beginning to slither up onto the counter from down at the man's feet. "Oh," she gasped, shocked, but then realised that wasn't really unusual for an apothecary. "Sorry, that scared me."

"It wasn't you." He said abruptly.

She looked at him, a little unnerved now. "What?"

"I wasn't waiting for you."

The snake hissed again, and Gwen took a couple of steps back from the counter, wondering what was going on. She watched as the man reached for his wand, and tried to reach for her own, but her reactions seemed to be delayed and her hand was moving rather slowly.

"I don't think you should be here." His tone was definitely threatening, and she thought she should probably do something, but she didn't know what. As she tried to process her thoughts, he suddenly moved and she felt her wand wrenched out of her hand as he shouted, "_Expelliarmus._"

Now she was scared. The snake hissed again and began to slither over the counter towards her. She'd walked into something bad. Panic started to settle in, and as she fixed her gaze on the snake's fangs and flickering tongue she felt the fear beginning to grip her.

But then she sensed movement behind her, and her heart leapt as she heard the sound of a Dutch-accented voice. "Do you have a license for that snake, Mr Hanson?"

**A/N: Llinos is pronounced 'Kin-oss'. I'm sort of being a bit cheeky by using it, because it's my friend's middle name and she absolutely _hates _it, but I wanted a Welsh name so I decided to name her paternal grandmother Llinos. Incidentally, I also have a friend named Lawrence who isn't too fond of being called that either, so I used his name for one of Gwen's grandparents as well.** **I'm not sure what relevance it's going to have to the story but I wanted to provide a bit more info about Gwen's background and family.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Part Two, Chapter Fourteen**

At the sound of the man's voice the snake stopped advancing towards Gwen and reared up to hiss at the newcomer. Even though Gwen was wary of taking her eyes off it, she wanted to get a better look at who it was that had just walked in, and turned so that she was able to see the man standing behind her. Even though she didn't recognise him she knew who he was instantly. He had Sander's long nose and dark blue eyes, and his copper coloured hair was just slightly lighter than his brother's (albeit cut a lot shorter). However, in contrast to Sander's usually cheerful expression, he looked serious and his angular jaw was set in a solemn line that looked like he meant business. Gwen also thought he seemed slightly taller and stronger built than Sander, and she immediately felt a lot safer. Martijn Westerbeck didn't look like the kind of man to be messed with.

Gwen quickly glanced back round at the snake and the man behind the counter, both of which had paused and seemed to be weighing up the situation. As she turned back to Martijn he gave a slight nod of his head to indicate for her to get behind him, and quickly she began to walk back in the direction of entrance. She'd only gone a couple of paces before she heard the snake hiss behind her again, and as she turned her to see what it was doing it launched itself at her. Gwen gave a short scream and dived to the floor to try and get away, but the snake didn't get far before there was a bright burst of orange light, and the next thing Gwen saw was the 'shopkeeper' duck as 250 pounds of legless reptile flew through the air and smashed into the shelves behind the counter.

A moment later, he appeared again and leapt over the counter with a snarl, thrusting his wand out in front of him as he shouted a curse, which Martijn quickly countered with a yell of "_Reducto!" _Several more things smashed in the shop as the spell was deflected, and Gwen shielded her head with her hands as shelves began to collapse around her. Glancing up she saw Martijn cast another spell in the shopkeeper's direction, but the man dodged it and then used a repulsion charm to hurl several objects in the shop at Martijn, who was forced to dive out of the way.

Determined not to be left lying here helpless, Gwen quickly looked around to see where her wand had ended up. She found it lying on the floor only a couple of metres away, and crawled over to it and snatched it up. As she looked back to the fight, she saw the shopkeeper duck down behind a cabinet containing rodent skeletons as Martijn directed a stunner at him, which instead collided with the glass windows of the cabinet and send shards of glass and small animal bones flying everywhere. When the shopkeeper reappeared he was already preparing to deflect Martijn's _Impedimenta _curse, but as he waved his wand to send the curse hurtling towards the few shelves that remained standing he was surprised to find it wrenched out of his hand as Gwen yelled, "_Expelliarmus!"_

Both he and Martijn turned to stare at her, as if they'd forgotten she was even there and were amazed that she'd joined in the fight, and for a couple of seconds Gwen just stared back, still in shock. Then there were several loud cracks as a swarm of aurors apparated into the room and half a dozen voices yelled "_Stupefy!"_

The shopkeeper was knocked back several feet by the force of several stunners, and his head collided with the foot of the counter as he fell to the floor. After that he lay still, completely out cold.

Realising the fight was over, Gwen gingerly picked herself up of the floor and straightened up to see what was going on. One of the aurors, who Gwen couldn't help but notice had rather large ears, turned to Martijn and gave him a nod. "Nice work, Marty."

"Don't call me Marty, Frank," Martijn responded, and although there seemed to be a note of irritation in his voice he was grinning. Even with just that brief sentence Gwen could tell his accent was noticeably thicker than Sander's. "Anyway, it's her you want to be congratulating," he said, looking at Gwen. "Nice litter disarmer that was, and perfectly timed. If only more of you English could shoot spells like that." He was still grinning, seemingly on a high from the adrenaline rush.

The big eared auror rolled his eyes. "If you think we English can't shoot spells you should see my wife in action."

Martijn laughed. "Now if it was her saying that about you I'd be tempted to make a rather inappropriate joke at this point…"

One of the other aurors interjected. "Oh, will the pair of you pack it in!" Gwen was still surveying the scene before her in silence, not quite recovered from the shock of what had just happened. She vaguely registered that the auror in question was a female with close cropped platinum blonde hair and wide, bright blue eyes. She looked more like a pixie than a dark wizard catcher, although from the look on her face and the way she carried herself she still seemed like the kind of person you wouldn't want to cross.

Gwen was a little surprised when the woman turned to her and she found herself being addressed by her. "Are you alright?"

Gwen gave a short nod. "Um, yeah. I'm fine." She glanced at the unconscious wizard on the floor, and then back at the aurors. "Who is he? A Death Eater?"

"We think." It was another auror with thick, black curly hair and an Italian accent who answered. "His name's Matthew Hanson and he's a zoologer specialising in magical reptiles. He's had contracts with various potion breweries and apothecaries over Europe as a venom supplier, but when some of his clients started to go missing we decided to keep a closer eye on him."

"Cris," said the blonde woman, sounding irritated.

He looked at her quizzically, "What? Was I not supposed to tell people that?"

"No."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Well, nobody told me. _Perché__ gli inglesi__ sono__ così__ disorganizzata__?_"

The woman ignored him and instead crossed to the unconscious form of the wizard lying on the floor. The other aurors joined her and stood in a semicircle around him, one of them casting a spell so that ropes appeared from the end of his wand and began to wind themselves around the man's ankles and wrists. Gwen hung back, realising she was probably in their way.

"Ok," the woman said. "Let's see what he's got to say." She pointed her wand at him. "_Enervate._"

They all watched as the man began to stir, and slowly blinked his eyes open. As he stared up at them a look of confusion spread across his face.

"Mr Hanson..." one of the aurors began, but was interrupted by the man beginning to speak.

"Wh..what? Who are you? What happened? Where's Mr Robinson?" he looked around him in bewilderment, "I was with Mr Robinson, and then there was...oh God," a look of terror spread across his face as he remembered whatever it was.

"Then there was what?" the auror called Frank prompted.

"There was the snake. Oh God, it was so...I've never seen any like it before. Those eyes...it was like...it felt like...it was _speaking _to me inside my head. Oh God, what happened?" he was babbling, the expression on his face one of pure horror.

Gwen noticed that a similarly horrified expression was spreading across Martijn's face. "Oh shit," he muttered, "The snake! Get after the snake!" He barked the order as he whipped his wand out and ran behind the counter.

"What snake?" one of the others asked, but had already begun to follow Martijn.

"Where the fuck did it go?" Martijn growled as he realised the reptile was nowhere in sight. Spotting the stairs leading to the basement, the Dutchman headed through the door leading to the back of the shop and began to descend them. The other aurors exchanged glances with each other for a moment, before simultaneously deciding to abandon Hanson as he babbled incoherently on the floor and go after their colleague.

Gwen was just about over the immediate shock by now, and as she heard voices coming from the basement she took a few tentative steps forward, curious to see what was going on. She thought she probably shouldn't go any further and that it would be best to stay put, but her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know how this Hanson person had ended up running the shop. What had happened to the Robinsons? And what was so special about the snake? Part of her didn't want to know, but at the same time she definitely wanted an explanation as to why she'd just been attacked in her grandmother's old store.

As she walked steadily forward and began to descend the stairs into the basement she began to make out more of what was being said.

"Where can it have gone? I mean, unless it's fucking disapparated then there is no way it could have gotten out of here..."

"Well, I wouldn't rule that out."

"It's a snake, for crying out loud, Petya. Snakes don't disapparate."

"You heard what Hanson said. I think we're onto something really bad here..."

Gwen reached the foot of the stairs and began to creep forward through the first dimly lit room in the cellar, heading towards a doorway from which an eerie yellow light was spilling through. She could make out the figures of the aurors standing inside, but couldn't see much else of what was in the room.

Their voices got even louder.

"And what do you imagine that is?"

"I think the question is more likely _who _that is, Petya."

"Are you serious? I mean..._how _big was that snake, Martijn?"

"Big."

"And that's...? Oh Merlin, that's just _wrong._"

As Gwen reached the doorway she tentatively peered through, unsure as to how they'd react to her having followed them. As she glanced round the room she saw Cris and another brown haired auror checking out the far wall, tapping it in places as if searching for a hidden exit. Another auror was pacing up and down impatiently while speaking with the blonde woman, whereas the final two aurors were simply staring at a spot in the far corner of the room. Gwen peered at Martijn's face, and noticing his grim expression she followed his gaze to where he was looking.

She couldn't really tell what it was at first, but as she worked it out she gagged. There seemed to be a nest of sorts on the far corner of the room, comprised of used cardboard boxes, old copies of the _Daily Prophet _and various worn and dirtied robes and blankets. In the centre of the nest, there was a lump of a congealed substance that seemed to be mostly red in colour, but with a slightly browny-yellowish tinge in places, and sticking out of it were white pieces that were most definitely shaped like human bone.

Gwen turned away and vomited.

**A/N: Ok, be honest. How many of you thought it was Sander and how many guessed it was Martijn? I know I caught a few people out, that was the idea :P  
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**I do hope none of you were eating when you read that last bit. I learned quite a bit about snakes when researching this chapter. The average weight of an anaconda is 500 pounds and they can be over 29 feet long. Snakes also have really good digestive systems and can digest bone provided they don't regurgitate their food before it's been digested properly, but if they do regurgitate it's pretty nasty. **

**So, now you have met Martijn, although he doesn't know who Gwen is yet. What do you all think of him? I'm trying to make him similar to Sander but at the same time different. I'm looking forward to writing more about him, even though I think next chapter's going to be Barty-centric as I haven't had one of those in a while.  
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	15. Chapter 15

**Part Two, Chapter Fifteen**

Barty was nervous when Saturday morning came around. Even though he _wanted _to do what Bellatrix had asked him to he wasn't exactly calm and relaxed about it. This was probably the riskiest thing he'd ever had to do as a Death Eater: he'd have to keep Edmondson under the Imperius Curse all day while they were in separate rooms, at the same time as trying to pretend to be getting on with work and ensuring nobody noticed anything was wrong. And if his control did slip, even just for a minute…well, they'd be right in the middle of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. The consequences of that didn't even bear thinking about.

He knew if he screwed this up then it'd be a life sentence for him in Azkaban, regardless of who his father was. (In fact, Barty thought that only made a life sentence _more _likely.) But he also knew Bellatrix wouldn't have taken the risk with him is she didn't think he was capable of, and he wasn't going to disappoint her. If he succeeded in this then he would have gone further than any other Death Eater in helping to find their master. The thought of that alone made the risk worth it.

Edmondson had been kept unconscious and tied up in one of the spare rooms overnight, and Barty had been given the task of waking her to start her day at the Ministry. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had chosen not to watch (although Bellatrix had seemed rather disappointed about it) and Barty knew they were testing him to see how he performed when he didn't have two other Death Eaters watching him. As Barty entered the room he first crossed to the curtains to pull them open and allow some light into the dark and dingy space, and then walked over to the small, battered and bruised figure lying in the corner. He knelt down next to her and began to untie the ropes binding her ankles so that she'd be able to walk. As he disturbed her she stirred and slowly began to regain consciousness. Barty glanced up at her face as she slowly eased her swollen eyelids open. She glanced around in fear at first, wondering where she was, and then as her gaze landed of Barty a look of hope came into her eyes. "Barty? Where are the aurors? Are they coming?"

Barty couldn't help but smirk as he realised she thought he was here to rescue her. He didn't answer her question, but instead raised his fist to punch her round the face. He knew that wasn't strictly necessary, but it felt good to finally take out all his frustration on something. "Shut up," he said coldly, and then went back to untying her.

She gave a small whimper as even more force was applied to her already beaten face, and looked at him in bewilderment. "Barty? What…"

"I said shut up." He didn't hit her again, but glared at her as if he might, and she went quiet.

After he was done untying her he roughly dragged her to her feet and gripped her upper arm as he pulled her over to the window. Still dazed, she stumbled slightly and fell against him, and he shoved her off so that she landed against the window frame. Now that they were standing in better lighting he had a better view of her face, and kept hold of arm tightly with his left hand as he raised his wand to her face to start working on her. She flinched away from him at first, but as she felt the tingling sensation of her skin beginning to heal a look of confusion spread across her features. Tentatively, she tried talking again. "Wha…what are you doing?"

He smirked at her. "Can't have you going to work looking like that now, can we?"

She went very still, sensing the underlying menace in his words.

After he was finished with her he roughly flung her back into the centre of the room. She tripped over her feet a little as her sore ankles struggled to support her, but as she regained her balance she turned round to look at him. Barty barely registered the look of fear on her face before it was wiped blank. "_Imperio._"

Her expression suddenly became vacant and she stood completely still. This was the first time Barty had used the curse, and he was surprised by just how powerful it felt. She was completely under his control. _"Go through that door," _he thought firmly, and grinned as she turned and walked towards the door. This was so easy.

Once she'd walked through it she stood still in the corridor, awaiting further instruction. It occurred to Barty he could make her do absolutely anything, if he wanted to. He could make her do something as bizarre as start dancing a jig, or he could make her throw herself down the stairs. It was tempting to try it out, and just see how far he could take things, but he had a job to be getting on with. "_Turn left," _he thought, _"Go through the door at the end of the corridor into the bathroom. Get washed, and change into the clothes we've left out for you."_

She did as he told her, and as he waited for her to finish he leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door, twirling his wand in his fingers and grinning to himself. Even with her in the next room and his wand not pointed at her, he could still sense the power he had over her. Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as he'd thought.

When she'd finished she came back out into the corridor and he looked at her, thinking she looked perfectly normal and ready for another day at work. He directed her down the stairs and into the kitchen where Bellatrix and Rodolphus were waiting. Rodolphus looked up from his breakfast as Barty entered the room, whereas Bellatrix seemed to have been watching the door the whole time, waiting for him to come in.

"How are you finding it?" Rodolphus asked.

"Piece of cake," Barty said with a shrug. It really was too easy.

He met Bellatrix's gaze and he noticed there was a glint in her eye that seemed both pleased and envious. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Barty just grinned at her.

He turned his attention back to Laura. She was going to use the fireplace to get to work. There was no way for the Ministry to track transport via the Floo Network, so he knew it would be safe. Barty would have to go in behind her to keep the curse in tact, but it would look to anyone on the other side like they'd just happened to arrive at work within seconds of each other. Barty had put his wand away. He'd realised he didn't need it out constantly to get her to obey him. "_Take some floo powder and walk into the fireplace," _he instructed her. She did as she was asked. Barty took a pinch of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece, ready to follow her. "_You are going to the Ministry of Magic," _he thought to her, and she spoke out in a flat voice, "The Ministry of Magic," before dropping the powder into the fireplace and disappearing in a flash of green flame.

Barty turned to grin one last time at Bellatrix and Rodolphus before stepping into the fireplace after her. He continued to watch them with a satisfied smirk on his face as he said his destination, and then the room disappeared in a swirl of emerald fire.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part Two, Chapter Sixteen**

Barty stayed close behind her as they stepped out of the fireplace at the Ministry. She stopped in front of him and he immediately thought to her to continue moving towards the lifts. They were caught up in the crowd of Ministry employees moving to and from different offices, and he hoped everyone would be too busy to notice the mechanical way in which he was moving. He was beginning to realise that although it was easy to exercise control over her, it was difficult to get it to appear natural. It would be even more difficult once they reached the department.

Once they were at the lifts she got in and turned round. He followed her and gave her a smile, pretending to have just noticed her. "Morning, Laura." _"Say good morning," _he thought.

"Good morning." Her voice was flat, but he thought it would seem natural enough to everyone else in the crowded lift.

The doors were about to close when a wizard Barty didn't recognize suddenly rushed towards the lift and squeezed himself in. "Sorry, sorry," he said as he crammed himself in among the people already tightly packed in. He managed to fit into a space next to Laura, and Barty felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned to talk to her. "Laura, did you get my memo?"

_Tell him no._

"No, sorry." _Ask him to resend it. _"Can you send another one?"

The man sighed as the door to the lift closed and they began to move. It was five stops back, one left and two down to the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, and Barty hoped the man would get out of the lift before then. "I need it sorting by this afternoon. Could you come round to the office at twelve o' clock?"

_No, you're back in the field investigation this afternoon. Tell him to send a memo to someone else in the department if he's desperate._

"I'm in a field investigation this afternoon. Send a memo to the department if you're desperate."

"I need someone who knows about muggle transport. We're really struggling with the airyplanes."

Barty tried to think of someone else in the department he knew was muggle-born. _Tell him to ask Eric Brydon._

"Ask Eric Brydon."

The lift stopped, and the man sighed again. "Alright. Thanks, Laura," he said as he got out, and Barty breathed a sigh of relief.

A couple of minutes later they arrived at the stop for the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, and Barty and Laura got out. He made a point of ensuring she said 'hello' to a couple of other people as they passed in the corridor, and Barty did the same. He was desperately hoping they wouldn't run into his father, not so much because he'd be more likely to notice something was wrong, but because Barty simply didn't want to talk to him.

Fortunately, they didn't run into Crouch Sr., but as they turned the corner to head down the corridor where Laura's office was situated they did come across someone else Barty would rather have avoided. Christine Coulthard gave them both a tired looking smile, but stopped to speak to Barty as they passed each other. "Morning, Barty."

"Morning." He hoped this was going to be brief, but the look on her face suggested it probably wouldn't be.

"Sorry, but I need to ask you. Things are alright between you and Gwen, aren't they? It's just that she's seemed a bit down these last couple of days, but you know what she's like; she won't talk to anyone about it."

Barty really didn't want to have this conversation with her. He hadn't wanted to see her today at all: the implications of it were just too difficult to handle. _What if Bella had asked me to do this to Christine and not Laura? _The thought had crossed his mind several times the night previously, and he still wasn't sure what he would have done in that situation. He didn't think he could do that to Gwen, even if she wouldn't know it was him doing it, but at the same time he had a desperate need to do something to prove himself to Bella and do everything he could to help find the Dark Lord. Gwen may be the only person in the world who actually genuinely liked him at the moment, but he thought he wanted Bellatrix to respect him just as much as he wanted Gwen to like him, if not more. He still found the thought that it could have been Christine instead of Laura uncomfortable, but this was something that had to be done.

In the end he'd decided that it _wasn't _Christine so there was no point worrying about hypothetical situations, but seeing her now brought all the doubt back. Even as he thought about it he felt his concentration slipping, and he got the strange sensation as if Laura was trying to mentally pull away from him. He quickly stopped thinking about Christine and focussed on getting Laura to walk down the corridor to the door to her office, but then it registered with him what Christine had said.

He immediately felt concerned for Gwen, and slightly guilty that he was probably the reason she was upset. He didn't want to upset her. He could handle everybody else in the world hating him provided the one person he actually wanted to like him did so, but it seemed he was running the risk of falling out with her as well now. But her mother was really not somebody he wanted to discuss this with. "Yeah, everything's fine, I think. Why? What's wrong with her?"

Christine looked thoughtful. "Well, nothing really specific, she just seems a bit…I don't know, depressed. Not like our usual, Gwen."

Even though Barty thought it was probably his fault she was like this, he couldn't exactly explain it to Christine. "I don't think it's me. Or at least I hope it's not. Maybe I should go and see her, do you mind if I call round?"

Christine gave a tired sigh. "No, it's no problem. She and John are usually in in the evenings, even if I'm not," she said, with a slightly resentful tone in her voice. She looked like she was about to say something more to him, but then her eyes focussed on a spot just over his shoulder and she frowned. "Laura, can I help you with something?"

Barty turned to see Laura Edmondson standing just outside the door to her office, looking at them. That worried Barty slightly. He'd told her to go inside, and he realised he'd let his concentration slip again. He tried to focus.

_No, you're just waiting to see if any memos arrive._

"No thank you, I'm just waiting to see if any memos arrive."

Christine looked up to see if there were any folded paper planes flying along the corridor. "Well, there don't seem to be any," Christine said in a slightly perplexed tone.

_No there aren't, so go inside._

"No, there aren't," Laura said, and then opened the door to her office and went inside.

Christine stared after her for a moment, slightly baffled, and then shook her head. "I think the stress is getting to her, poor girl. Anyway, see you later, Barty."

"Bye, Christine."

He waited for her to turn the corner at the end of the corridor before heading to Laura's office and going inside, closing the door behind him. Inside, she was stood passively in front of the desk, and he tried to think what he wanted her to do next, but he was distracted. _I should never have walked out on Gwen like that. Is she going to be mad at me now? But if I hadn't left when I did things might have ended up even worse… Oh, damn I shouldn't even be thinking about this right now._

He was realising the Imperius Curse was much more difficult to control when it didn't have his undivided attention.

_Get out the apparitions report on the Potter investigation._

He watched her as she went to her desk and began to open a drawer, but he still wasn't concentrating. _Damn it, why did Christine have to show up just then? It's not like I upset Gwen on purpose…_

As his thoughts wandered Laura stopped with her hand on the drawer handle, but she didn't move any further. _Oh fuck, open it! _he thought, but it was too late. She wasn't responding. He'd lost control of her.

He watched as she slowly seemed to drift back into a state of self awareness, and she lifted her head to look at him. "No." Her tone was scared, but defiant.

He sighed. "Oh, Laura…"

"You really are, aren't you?" she said, both fearful and incredulous, "You really are one of them."

"Surprised?" his tone was slightly mocking.

"But, how…how could you do that? How could you betray your father like that?"

He glared at her. "You stupid bitch. You're just like the rest of them. Why do you all assume that just because I have his name I'm supposed to be just like him? I am _nothing _like that bastard."

"Clearly…" she said, and began to reach into her robes as if searching for something.

He smirked, and reached into his own robes to take out two wands, one of which he held up for her to look at. "Looking for this?"

As she recognised it she glared at him. "How did you get that?"

He laughed, "Oh, come on Laura, don't be an idiot. As if we'd have let you keep your own wand."

She frowned and looked as if she was trying to work something out. "I don't remember clearly…What exactly happened?"

"I really don't think it matters. What matters is that you're going to give me that report now."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not."

He gave an exasperated sigh as he put her wand back in his pocket and levelled his own to point at her. "Yes Laura, you are."

"If I screamed loud enough I could have ever auror in the department in this office in less than a minute."

"Feel free to try, you know all these offices are soundproofed."

She scowled, realising he'd called her bluff. "I'm not going to do it."

He raised an eyebrow as he prepared to place her under the curse again. "Really, Laura? How long do you think you can fight it for?"

"How long do think you can fight to control me for?" He was vaguely impressed by her defiance, but still found it idiotic.

"Well, I don't need to, do I?" he said casually, "You've already shown me where it is. _Sangstasio._" It wasn't the spell he'd originally intended to cast, but it had a much more satisfying effect. Laura gasped and stood completely still for a moment before sinking to her knees, hunched over on all fours on the floor. She tried to look up at him, but he could see the effort it was taking her to move her head. Barty grinned to himself. He'd never actually used this spell on a human before, and the results were quite pleasing.

"Not very pleasant, is it?" he said to her, as he crossed over to the desk to open the drawer. "Not the kind of thing they teach at Hogwarts. It stops the blood circulating, deprives all your cells of oxygen. Essentially, you turn into a walking corpse for a few moments, and if you're lucky the curse will be lifted before you've had chance to get brain damage." He turned his wand away from her to lift the spell, but she was still weakened by it, laying on the floor and breathing heavily.

Barty smirked as he looked at her pathetic form crumpled by the foot of the desk, before opening the drawer she'd had her hand on to leaf through the papers inside. He was looking for the one entitled 'Apparition Report #42061' but as he flicked through the documents something else caught his eye. He took out one of the top pieces of parchment to scan it briefly, before muttering, "Shit," and folding it up to tuck inside his robes. That was definitely something else Bella and Rodolphus would be interested in, but he didn't have time to worry about it now.

Once he found the piece of parchment he was after he rolled it up and put it in his inside pocket along with Laura's wand, and then he walked round the desk to stand over Laura as she lay still trembling slightly on the floor. She seemed to have recovered slightly, but was still very pale. There was no way she'd be able to fight it now.

Barty's expression was blank as he cast the curse again. "_Imperio._"

Even though she was weak, he managed to get her to stand up and head towards the door out of her office. Out in the corridor there was nobody else around, which Barty was glad of. He didn't need any more distractions. He directed her down the corridor towards the office and the end, which belonged to one of the departmental supervisors, Malcolm Hessler, then stood behind her as he gave her further instructions. _Knock. When he answers, go inside. Tell him you're ill and you need to go home. _She knocked and was answered by a gruff bark of, "Come in."

She entered and waited to be addressed.

"Edmondson, what is it?"

"I'm not feeling very well, Malcolm. I need to go home."

Barty was standing just outside the door out of sight, but he knew at this point Hessler would be looking at Laura's pallid face and thinking she genuinely was ill. He heard the reply, "Yes, you look it. Perhaps you should have a lie down or something."

_Tell him again, you need to go home. _

"I need to go home," she reiterated. Barty knew that Hessler wouldn't be happy about losing one of his staff when the department was so busy, but he couldn't keep this up all day.

"Well, maybe you…" Hessler began, but then Laura started to sway slightly on her feet and Barty darted forward to catch her as she almost collapsed completely. He glanced into the office at Hessler's quizzical expression.

"I think she really does need to go home," Barty said as he helped Laura find her balance again, trying to explain why he'd been standing just outside. "She almost fainted in the office just now." He thought he may have been a bit heavy handed with the blood stasis curse. The Imperius Curse could make a person do whatever you wanted them to, but it couldn't override biological limitations. If she actually did pass out there'd be little he could do about it.

Hessler looked at the pair of them. "Yes, I think you're right."

"I'll make sure she gets to the fireplaces safely," Barty said, before leading Laura back out towards the lifts. He didn't have much further to go now, and now that most people had started their morning shifts the corridors were less busy. Thankfully, he reached the main foyer without anymore interruptions like the one with the wizard earlier, and he led her over to one of the fireplaces. He thought about giving her the documents before he sent her back off to Bellatrix and Rodolphus, but thought that since he'd been the one who put the work in to get hold of them he should have the privilege of being first to read them.

Once he'd ensured she'd said the words to get back to the house he backed away from the grate and finally relaxed. He didn't have to keep up the Imperius Curse any longer now that Bella and Rodolphus would handle her back at their home. It was at that point that it occurred to him he had no idea just what they were going to do with her now. He'd never even considered it before, he'd just got on and done what he'd been asked to without thinking about what would happen afterwards. Now that he did think about it, he supposed they'd kill her.

That bothered him slightly, even though he wasn't sure why. She was a necessary sacrifice to return the Dark Lord to his rightful position of power, but at the same time he felt uneasy about it. It wasn't exactly upsetting, just strange. He'd passed her in the corridors, spoken to her occasionally and worked in the same department as her for two years, and now he wouldn't. How odd.

He quickly stopped thinking about her though as he realised he did actually have a job he needed to be getting on with. Or at least _pretend _to be getting on with if he wanted to get paid. He couldn't exactly rely on his father for income anymore.

He was scowling at the thought of his father even as he walked away from the grates and back towards the lift area, but then stopped in surprise as he noticed one of the auror units coming as a group out of a fireplace, accompanied by someone he hadn't expected to see.


	17. Chapter 17

**Part Two, Chapter Seventeen**

Martijn was the first to reach Gwen once he'd noticed her throwing up outside the door. The others had turned to look, but Martijn had been moving in an instant, reaching her in a matter of seconds. He placed a comforting hand on her back and began to guide her back towards the stairs. "Come on," he said softly, "I think it's best we get you out of here."

Gwen wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. In the dim light Martijn could see the tears glistening on her cheeks. "Was…was that the Robinsons?" she said shakily.

"It's hard to be sure." Martijn tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

"But it was _somebody _wasn't it?" Her voice was filled with horror and disgust.

"Yes, it was somebody."

She choked back a sob.

Martijn kept his arm around her as they ascended the stairs, and only once they'd reached the top did he turn to glance back at the aurors still at the bottom. "What are we doing about Hanson, Ella?" he called back down.

Gwen heard the woman's voice answer. "We'll have to take him back to the Ministry for questioning, although I think a high dose of sedative potion might be in order. And the girl's going to have to give a statement."

Gwen looked at Martijn. "Me?"

He didn't have chance to respond before the blonde woman appeared through the trap door leading to the basement and spoke for him. "You saw the snake, didn't you?"

Gwen nodded.

"We'll need a statement then."

Martijn sighed. "Looks like you'll have to come back to the Ministry with us."

Gwen tried to compose herself. "Uh, yeah, that's fine," she said quietly.

Martijn looked at her and frowned, as if realising something. "Sorry, I don't believe I ever asked what your name was."

"Oh…" Gwen had forgotten he didn't know her. "It's Gwen. Gwen Coulthard."

"Ah, really?" He looked slightly surprised but at the same time quite pleased. "You're not Sander's banker, by any chance?"

She nodded. "Yeah, that's me." She was beginning to calm down now. Martijn had that way, like Sander, of putting her at ease.

"Well, looks like we got to meet sooner than expected." He was giving her one of those warm, friendly smiles that was so like his brother's.

She smiled back. "No offense, but if it meant avoiding this I think I could have waited until Thursday."

Martijn laughed at that. "Understandable. Although I'm pretty sure this was a much more exciting way for us to meet than in some stuffy old office at the bank."

She gave him a mock-offended look. "Don't knock my office until you've seen it. It's really not _that _bad."

He continued to grin at her. "No, perhaps not. It's situated in very convenient place near an ice cream parlour, I hear?"

"Um, yeah, actually. You can see it from the window."

"Well, remind me to buy Sander an ice cream after out meeting on Thursday. He'll be disappointed he missed all the action just now and I'll have to make it up to him."

She raised an eyebrow at him, a little surprised. "He'll be disappointed he didn't have to fight off a giant snake?"

He shrugged. "Well...maybe. He'll definitely pretend to be though if he thinks he can get a free ice cream out of me."

Gwen laughed. "He does like his ice cream, doesn't he?"

Martijn nodded. "He does indeed." He glanced behind him for a couple of seconds at the other aurors and then turned back to Gwen. "Sorry, do you mind just hanging on a moment while we sort this out?"

Gwen didn't mind. That brief conversation with him had definitely helped calm her down. Just like Sander, his natural charm and friendliness made her feel completely relaxed around him.

Martijn turned back to where Ella had been joined by Cris and another auror who were trying to get Hanson to co-operate by force-feeding him sedative potion from a vial, which he was stubbornly refusing to drink. He seemed to be half manic and half in shock, refusing to get up off the floor even though he'd been untied and was muttering gibberish to himself. Gwen watched as the other auror turned to Cris and muttered something quietly, "_Parselingua."_

"_Sì,__ è probabilmente la ragione ha deciso di lavorare con i serpenti per vivere." _Cris said in response.

The woman, who Gwen assumed was Ella, gave them an irritated look. "Could you two please remember we don't all speak Italian?"

Cris and the other auror glanced at her. "Sorry," Cris said, "Atalio and I just think it's interesting that he can speak parseltongue. You know, it's normally a skill you find _predominante_ in Dark Wizards."

"Well, lets not jump to any conclusions before we've had chance to question him," Ella said before focussing again on Hanson, who had begun to make violent hissing noises as Atalio once again tried to force the vial into his mouth. Hanson wasn't having any of it, still crumpled on the floor even as the Italians tried to drag him to his feet. "Oh, for crying out loud," Ella suddenly snapped, "_Petrificus totalus!_" She pointed her wand at Hanson, who immediately went still as his arms snapped to his sides and he went stiff as a board, like a plank laying on the floor. He stayed completely rigid even as Atalio lifted him upright.

Gwen watched Martijn's expression, which was somewhere between an amused smile and a frown. "I'm not exactly sure that was within regulations," he said to Ella, even though he seemed to be trying hard not to show his amusement at the way Hanson now resembled a lifesize, three dimensional version of a cardboard cutout.

She shrugged, "If I didn't do _something _we'd be here all day. Anyhow, Frank and Petya are going to stay in the basement until we send down an investigative team, although I don't think they've got many investigators to spare at the moment. We'll see what they tell us when we get back. Depending on what we found out about the snake..." Ella said that looking at Gwen, "This may count as high priority." She then pointed her wand at Hanson's knees and Gwen watched as there seemed to be a bit of movement in them. "Ok, he can walk," she said, "Cris, poke him so he keeps moving, will you?"

"_Con__ piacere,"_said the Italian, and jabbed Hanson in the back with his wand so that he took a few steps forward.

Martijn glanced at Ella. "We're going to use this fireplace, I take it?" he asked, glancing at the shop fireplace that had been filled with odd bits of stock that had been knocked around in the fight.

"May as well," she responded, "While they've still got the apparition ban on the holding area we've not got much choice." She took a pouch out of her robes and then took a pinch of powder from inside it which she flung into the fireplace. The grate erupted with green fire. "Alright, Atalio, Cris, get him out of here please. They don't want you using the central department grate except in emergencies so you're going to have to go via the main entrance."

"Yes, boss," Atalio responded with just the slightest hint of an eye-roll, and Cris prodded Hanson forward into the fireplace. His compatriot joined him and spoke out in his thick Italian accent, "The Ministry of Magic," before the three men disappeared.

"Alright, you two next," Ella commanded, indicating Gwen and Martijn. Gwen got the impression that Ella must be the leader of this auror unit – she definitely had that bossy kind of attitude. She glanced over to Martijn, who smiled at her and guided her into the fireplace before speaking the name of their destination.

When they arrived at the other end they stepped out into the foyer of the Ministry of Magic Martijn leant in to whisper in her ear, "Sorry about Ella, she's a bit abrupt like that. Not the easiest person I've ever had to work with, but you get used to her."

Gwen jumped as she heard a voice behind her snap, "I heard that," and Ella stepped out of the fireplace before striding past her and Martijn to give more instructions to the Italians. Gwen and Martijn looked at each other, and then both smiled at the same time.

"Like I said, you get used to her," Martijn repeated.

Ella was instructing Atalio and Cris to use their lift priority, and Gwen turned to Martijn with a quizzical expression. "Isn't there way directly to the department?"

"There was," he explained, "But the problem is they've now got two dozen or so Death Eater suspects in holding cells around the fireplace, and they deemed it too much of an escape risk so they closed it off. We can still use it, but only via emergency protocol. This guy isn't really a high enough level threat to get us permission to open the central grate."

"He seemed like a pretty high level threat when I first met him."

"True, but it looks like he was probably cursed or possessed at that point. I think he's probably just harmlessly off his head now, but we'll see."

Gwen was about to ask "Cursed or possessed by who?" but she was distracted by the sound of someone calling her name.

"Gwen..."


	18. Chapter 18

**Part Two, Chapter Eighteen**

The shock of seeing Gwen at the Ministry wiped all thoughts of Laura from Barty's mind. As he called out her name she turned to see who it was, and Barty saw a look of surprise register on her face before it was quickly replaced with one of relief. Before he had chance to say anything more to her she ran the few paces between them and wrapped her arms round him in a hug. He was slightly taken aback at first, but then realised something must be wrong and hugged her back. He found himself thinking back to what Christine had said, and wondered what had prompted her to act this way. Something must be the matter, and as he glanced up at the aurors standing behind her he felt a flicker of fear. Maybe she'd found out? What if they'd told her, or she'd told them, and they were here to arrest him… Even though the thought made him panic just for a second he quickly realised it made no sense, and his thoughts immediately shifted to concern for Gwen.

He pulled back from the hug to look at her, genuinely worried. "Gwen, what happened? Why are you here with them?"

"Nothing," she answered rather quickly, and he gave her a look as if to say, _"Oh really?"_ She quickly backtracked. "Well, something, but it doesn't matter. I was in Diagon Alley and something went off, but it's all alright now. It's just…I'm so glad to see you."

At her last few words he felt a sense of warmth spread through his chest, but that didn't undo the fact he was probably responsible for her having been so miserable these past couple of days. He was going to have to make it up to her somehow, but right at this instant the more pressing matter was what had caused her to arrive at the Ministry with an auror escort. "What do you mean something went off?" he asked, before looking up at the aurors she'd arrived with to try and work some of out for himself.

As he looked at the auror standing just a few feet behind her he felt a brief sense of recognition. He didn't know any of the foreign draftees, but this one looked strangely familiar. He thought the man looked unusually like the businessman who kept visiting her at Gringotts, but Barty knew they couldn't be the same person. That still didn't stop Barty taking an instinctive dislike to him. Protectively, he took a step closer to Gwen, and the auror did the same. Gwen noticed the movement, and as she glanced at each of them he noticed her expression seemed almost exasperated. He thought he should perhaps back off a little, just for her sake. "Gwen?" he prompted, gently but still with a sense of urgency.

"Well," she began, "I'd gone to an apothecary on Diagon Alley, but the usual shopkeepers weren't there. Instead there's was this crazy guy with a snake and he was about to attack me, but then Martijn showed up and, well, everything's fine."

"What?" It took him a while to process what she'd just said. He glanced up at the auror and then back at her. "A crazy guy with a snake?"

"Yeah, um, Martijn thinks he might've been possessed." She looked at the auror for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Yes, that seems the most likely explanation," he said in a moderately strong Dutch accent which confused Barty somewhat. This definitely wasn't the same guy he'd run into at Gringotts, but they were remarkably similar. Related perhaps?

"Possessed by whom?" Barty asked, but in his mind he was already beginning to piece the puzzle together. A possessed man with a snake: that was something significant; something Bellatrix and Rodolphus should know about…but he couldn't forget that it had attacked Gwen. He was torn between feeling a sense of excitement that the snake may be key to finding the Dark Lord, and also worry and anger that Gwen had been in danger. But it wasn't like it had deliberately gone after her: she'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And besides, everything had turned out fine. He'd just have to make sure nothing like this ever happened again in future, which would be easier once he and the Death Eaters had succeeded in returning the Dark Lord to power.

Even though he was trying to pretend to himself it would be that simple, he knew that it wouldn't, and so instead tried to focus on the immediate issue concerning him and waited for the auror's answer.

"We can't know for certain," the auror replied, "We'll need an investigative unit down at the shop as soon as possible." He then frowned for a moment. "Sorry, but I'm sure I recognise you. You work in the Law Enforcement Department, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Barty replied coolly. He still hadn't warmed much to the auror.

"What's your name?"

"Bartemius Crouch." He went for the formal 'Bartemius' but left off the 'Junior'. Being 'Junior' wasn't exactly something he was proud of.

The Dutchman looked confused. "I thought Crouch was the man I met last week? The head of the Department?"

Barty glared at him. This was why he _hated _being burdened with his father's name. "I'm his son."

"Oh," came the response. "Well, I'm Martijn Westerbeck. I was sent with the draft from the Netherlands." The man was holding out his hand to shake and Barty intended to just ignore it, but then he noticed Gwen was frowning at him slightly, and accepted the handshake silently.

"Would you be able to arrange an investigation team for us?" Martijn asked.

Barty thought he could, but didn't particularly want to; both because he'd like to irritate the Dutchman, and also because he thought the investigation should be left to the Death Eaters. But it wasn't exactly like he could refuse. "I can try to," he said.

"Thank you," the auror said in response. "Now I think we need to get our suspect to the holding cells." Martijn had turned away to try and locate the rest of his unit but then Barty asked another question.

"What happened to the snake?"

Westerbeck turned back to him. "It disappeared."

Barty felt a sinking feeling in the bit of his stomach. "What, completely?"

"As if it disapparated. I don't think much to our chances of finding it actually, but we've got to try."

Barty let the wave of disappointment wash over him. If the snake had vanished then it wasn't going to be much use to the Death Eaters, but perhaps at least now they had an idea of what it was they should be looking for.

He turned to Gwen, who looked as if she was about to say something, but then there came the sound of a voice cutting across the general noise in the foyer and the three of them turned to look in the direction of the lifts. "Martijn, do you mind keeping up? I prefer it if my operatives don't just vanish without warning."

It was Ella, who was stood holding open the door of a lift which contained only Hanson and the two Italians. There were several people standing around in front of her looking disgruntled that the auror had used her lift priority pass. It may be a safety precaution, but that didn't stop it being irritating.

"You just carry on, Ella," Martijn called back, "I'm with a member of the Department."

The pixie-like auror looked a little annoyed, but then she glanced at Gwen and then at Barty and nodded. "Alright. Meet me in the briefing room when you reach the Department," she said, before sliding the door shut so that the lift was able to retreat back into the wall.

Martijn turned back to Barty and Gwen and rolled his eyes. "Do you mind if we take the long corridor route? I can't say I'm in a particular rush to have that meeting with her."

Barty noticed Gwen grin at that. "No, that's no problem," she said.

Martijn shrugged. "Alright," he set of in the opposite direction to the lifts down a corridor, and Barty and Gwen followed behind him.

Staying close to her, Barty leaned in to whisper quietly in Gwen's ear so that Martijn wouldn't hear them. "Are you alright?"

She looked at him and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, don't worry about me. The snake didn't get chance to do anything before Martijn and the others arrived."

She'd misunderstood him. "I didn't mean about that, I just meant, well, in general. Your mother says you've been a bit down these past couple of days."

"Oh…" she seemed quite taken aback by him asking and glanced away.

"It's not to do with me, is it?"

She quickly looked back at him once he'd asked that. "No! Well, um, actually…"

He was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"…I do suppose I need to talk to you about…stuff."

"What stuff?" It was hard not to keep the worry out of his voice. He had no idea what she meant by this. At least if she'd said, "I'm mad at you from just walking out on me like that," he'd have been able to understand it.

"Just things I think we ought to discuss."

His mind was going into overdrive. "You don't mean the break-up talk?"

Her reaction made her seem almost offended by that. "No, I do _not _mean the break-up talk."

He was pleased that she genuinely seemed to mean that, but it was only making him imagine even worse scenarios. Out of the blue, a thought popped into his head and he couldn't stop himself saying it. "Well…wait. You're not pregnant, are you?"

At that she actually stopped walking for a second and punched him none-too-lightly on the arm. "No!" she said rather loudly, causing Martijn to turn and look at them. He seemed both mildly puzzled and amused.

"I'm, um…I'm going the right way, yes?" he asked, pointing down the corridor.

"Yes, that's fine, just carry on in that direction," Gwen said, waving for him to continue, and then she turned back to Barty and spoke more quietly as they set off again. "No, I am _not _pregnant. How would I even be able to tell? It's only been...damn, I can't know for sure, can I? I bloody well hope I'm not…Oh, shit, you've worried me now."

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered to try and calm her down. He moved closer to her and put his arm round her waist, and she seemed happy to let him do so. He leant in to kiss her on the cheek and then muttered in her ear, "Don't worry about that, forget I even said anything. _Obliviate _the last two minutes. There, is that any better?"

He noticed she was smiling slightly. "Um, yeah, ok…" she seemed to calm down for a moment, but then flared up again. "Oh, why did you even have to say that?" she said, pulling away from him. She didn't seem angry, just rather bothered by the fact she was probably worrying herself needlessly.

"Gwen…I, uh…yeah, I wish I hadn't said it. You just got me panicking when you said we needed to talk. Please, please try not to worry about that."

She looked at him and sighed. "Well, I guess we'll see, won't we? Although if I am pregnant you are in so much trouble. Anyway…" she said, keen to change the subject, "It's nothing to do with that. It's about the, um, _job _you used to do."

"Oh…" he said. If she was referring to what he'd told her about the Department of Mysteries, then he was starting to think that maybe he'd have less to worry about if she _were _pregnant. "What about it exactly?"

"Well, um…It's kind of hard to explain right now. Are you alright to come round to mine later?"

He was relieved when she asked that. It would give him time to work out what she might ask and what he should tell her, and he also wanted to know the details of everything that had happened today. "Yes, absolutely," he replied, "I'll come round and we'll talk. And I can bring some chocolate frogs, if you like." He was hoping that if he kept her happy she'd ask less awkward questions, but he had to admit it was worth it too to just see her smile. Nobody ever seemed to smile at him except Gwen.

He was pleased when his efforts were rewarded and she gave him a grin. "Yes, that would be nice."

"Ok," he said, putting his arm round her shoulders and squeezing her briefly, "I, uh…Well, we're here now," he said as they reached one of the department corridors, "and I think the auror wants you." That last part was added rather resentfully.

"Yeah, he does," she said apologetically as she saw Martijn standing at the entrance to the briefing room, waiting for her. She turned to Barty, to give him a quick kiss goodbye. "Promise you'll come round though?"

"Yeah, I promise, as soon as I finish my shift." _Which isn't exactly true, _he thought. He was going to have to report back to Bellatrix and Rodolphus first, but there was no way he could tell Gwen that. Lying to her was regretful, but necessary.

"Ok, bye then," she said, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before heading over towards Martijn, who smiled at her as he guided her into the room.

She glanced back at Barty one last time before entering and he smiled at her, but even as he watched the door close behind them he couldn't quite stop his hands balling into fists. He'd decided that he really didn't like Dutchmen.

**A/N: Why is it every time I plan an event to last one chapter it always ends up being at least three? It's not necessarily a bad thing, it just means this story seems to go on for longer than I intended it to. I thought I was going to have reached this point now by the end of chapter thirteen! Oh well, I don't really mind. I love writing this, so the more of it I write the better. Hope everyone's enjoyed reading it too, and thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Part Two, Chapter Nineteen**

John had decided to take a late lunch and call in on Crouch in the early afternoon. Following the meeting at Gringotts earlier in the morning Crouch was now co-ordinating the various units searching for Black from the Ministry, and John hoped he'd be able to get chance to talk to him. He hoped he'd be able to briefly call in on Christine too, but it was simply a matter of whichever of them he came across first. It turned out to be Crouch, who was in his office when John arrived and seemed to have just finished a discussion with a large group of aurors and investigators who were filing out into the corridor. When he noticed John he sighed and a weary expression came over his face. "Didn't forget something this morning, did we, John?"

"No," John replied, "Although I would like a word, if you don't mind. There's something I wanted to discuss with you earlier but didn't get chance."

"What's it about?"

"Well, just a couple of personal issues that I think need clearing up. I'll try and be brief."

Crouch looked indecisive for a moment, but then sighed and decided to agree to it. "Oh, alright. I've still got fifteen minutes before the next unit's due to report back."

He held the door open for John as they entered his office, and they each took seats on opposite sides of Crouch's desk. Although the two weren't exactly friends, they had gotten to know each other quite well since they were introduced a few months ago, and they considered each other to be a bit more than just acquaintances.

"So what can I help you with John?" Crouch asked. John thought he seemed immensely tired.

"Well, Barty, it's about your son and my daughter," John said slowly, thinking how to phrase this as tactfully as possible. Even so, he saw the way Crouch stiffened as he said 'your son'. "I know his behaviour when it comes to being at work hasn't exactly been commendable, but it isn't Gwen's fault. She's specifically told him to stop seeing her during the day and she isn't very happy about it."

Crouch didn't say anything for a moment, and then let out the breath he'd been holding. "John, I never thought it _was _her fault."

John was pleased to hear that, but now he was slightly puzzled about what it was that was clearly bothering Crouch so much. The man wasn't himself. "No?"

"No. it's just…" Crouch trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Barty?" John was surprised to find he _was_ concerned about Crouch, almost like he would be for a friend.

Crouch looked like he was trying to find the right words to explain the situation without having to go into too much detail. "Things are a little difficult between my son and I at the moment, and not that I'm blaming Gwen for anything, John, please understand that, but I think his relationship with her...well, it may have affected things."

John didn't much like the vague explanation he was being given. It sounded like both Crouch Sr. and Jr. were in an ongoing, seemingly unresolvable conflict, which was something John had suspected for quite some time. But now they were dragging Gwen into it, and they had no right to do that. John wanted to know exactly what was going on. Part of him felt bad about trying to intrude on Crouch's private life, but when it concerned his own daughter John thought he had a right to know. "What exactly's happened between you and him, Barty?"

Crouch closed his eyes slowly and then opened them again, and took a deep breath before answering. "My son, he's…well, he's left home, John."

There was silence for a few moments before John managed to respond with a rather astounded "Oh." He hadn't been expecting that. He knew Crouch had never got on well with his son, but he was beginning to think it went deeper than simply just that they annoyed each other. "Why? What went off?"

Crouch sighed. He looked like he was about to confess something to John, and it was taking him a lot of effort. "We had an argument about him leaving work to see Gwen, and I think he took it the wrong way."

"Oh," was all John said again. Crouch looked like he wanted to talk, as if he was glad to finally discuss this with somebody, and John wasn't going to interrupt him.

"He thinks I don't like her, and that I don't approve of anything he ever does, but it's not like that. I just…I want him to have bit of _respect _for me, that's all. So I told him that unless he stopped treating my house like a hotel he could leave home, and he did. I wish I'd never said it. I didn't actually want him to go, I just wanted to make him stop swanning around, doing as he pleases, not giving any thought to anybody else. I never actually thought he'd go through with it and leave."

John wasn't sure what he ought to say, but now it made more sense why Crouch had seemed so distracted at the meeting this morning. Clearly things were bad between them. It wasn't a situation John could relate to at all, but he wanted to be able to say something helpful. He could imagine it would be horrible to have that kind of relationship with your child. "Have you tried talking to him?"

Crouch shook his head. "He doesn't want to talk. He can barely stand to be in the same room as me."

"Well, in that case maybe this was for the best," John said thoughtfully. "If he's made the decision to move out then he must feel that's what's right for him, and maybe it'll turn out to be what's best for you both. Kids grow up, Barty. He was never going to stay at home forever. I know it's not wonderful that he's left when the pair of you are on such bad terms, but perhaps now if he finds he's happier with a bit more independence you'll be able to get along better."

Crouch considered that for a moment, and while John thought he seemed to be _trying_ to find a more positive outlook there was still a degree of scepticism in his expression. Crouch let out a sigh and gave a small shake of his head, before meeting John's gaze to speak in a tired and forlorn tone. "I hope so, John. I don't like arguing with him and I don't _want _him to resent me, but he does anyway and I don't know why. I don't know what I could have got so wrong: he seems to think I _hate _him, and I honestly don't. I wish I'd never given him the opportunity to walk out like this. Elizabeth's in hysterics about it; she wants him to come home." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before saying the next part. "If I'm honest, so do I. I want the son I used to have back, before all of this _anger _seemed to take over. That's all I see in him now, every time I look at him: so much anger and contempt and hate. I don't know why he's like this. Maybe I've not been there for him at home as much as I should have, but it's not like I've had much choice. I know it can't have been easy on him, what with Elizabeth and all, but I don't understand why things have turned out this badly. What did I get wrong, John?"

John really didn't know how to respond. He found it both odd and strangely flattering that a man like Crouch had opened up to him like that, when he didn't even consider John a friend. Although, John thought, perhaps maybe he _did. _John certainly _liked _Crouch as somebody he frequently had to work with, and Crouch seemed to return the sentiment. The thought that they could be friends didn't feel at all odd, especially considering that they'd known each other long enough through work, and now they had a common interest when it came to their children. Perhaps that was why Crouch had felt able to talk to John like this, but although John _wanted _to be able to help he wasn't sure what advice he could give. Despite not being able to relate to the situation at all John tried to say something that he hoped would make Crouch feel better, even though he couldn't be sure whether or not it was true. "I'm sure you did nothing _wrong, _Barty. It's probably just to do with him growing up, trying to assert his independence. Maybe now that you're not living in the same house as each other you'll find it easier to get on."

Crouch sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Maybe…" There were a few moments silence in during which Crouch seemed to be contemplating something, and then he spoke again. "You've never had any problems like this with Gwen, have you?"

John thought it might be more comforting to Crouch if he replied that he had and it was something normal every parent had to go through, but that wasn't true. "No. I think she's the least argumentative child I've ever come across, actually."

Crouch shook his head. "Well, I hope she rubs off on him."

At that point there was a knock on the door, and Crouch quickly got up to answer it. The tired, distressed man he'd been a moment ago had been replaced with the professional, efficient dark wizard hunter most people knew him as. John was relieved he was still at least able to pretend to be his normal self, although he knew that underneath it all things were getting to Crouch more than he showed. "That'll be the next unit reporting," Crouch said, about to open the door. "Sorry to kick you out, John, but I really have got to get on with this. And thank you for listening to me. I'm sure you didn't need to hear all about my troubles when you've probably got your own to be dealing with."

John shook his head to dismiss him. "No really, Bartemius, it's no problem. My main concern is for my daughter, which I suppose means by extension concern for your son as well. And for you, as a friend."

Crouch considered that for a moment. "Friend? Yes, I think so. I don't suppose friends would normally fob you off like this, but…"

"It's fine, I understand. Although I'm just going to say hi to Christine, if you don't mind," John said as he approached the door.

"Sure, tell her from me she's doing a great job with the investigation. I could do with a few more like her. See you later, John," Crouch said, opening the door to allow John to leave as a group of aurors filed in. John noticed the head of the column was a petite platinum blonde, and she was followed by a tall, copper haired man with sideburns and two Latino looking men. Once out in the corridor John watched the door close behind him before heading off to find Christine. Yes, he thought that perhaps now he and Bartemius could consider themselves friends, and it wasn't a bad feeling at all.

**A/N: I just wanted to write that to show Crouch Sr isn't as much of an uptight git as I've perhaps been portraying him as. I think him and Barty are probably just as bad as each other, in a way (overlooking the Death Eater thing, because that skews things somewhat). I hoped you liked that little bit of insight into what he's really feeling. There'll be a bit more insight into a couple of other non-main characters too next time, so I hope you enjoy that.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty**

When Martijn arrived back at his and Sander's rented apartment that evening he was quite shocked to find his brother sitting at the kitchen table with an uncharacteristically miserable and defeated expression on his face. Standing in the kitchen doorway as he hung his brown overcoat on the coat rack, Martijn watched his brother carefully. Sander appeared to be engrossed in reading a piece of parchment, a frown etched onto his features, and he didn't even seem to have noticed that Martijn had arrived home. Entering the kitchen, Martijn tried a casual greeting. "Hi."

Sander glanced up briefly. "Hi."

His tone was flat, and Martijn was immediately concerned. This wasn't like the usual Sander at all. Martijn had been looking forward to telling his brother that he'd gotten to meet Gwen today, but he thought that right now it was more important to find out what was wrong. Sitting down opposite his brother, Martijn decided to try the direct approach, "San, what's the matter?"

His brother sighed and tossed the piece of paper he was reading over to Martijn. "We've had an owl from Arien. He wasn't able to convince Dad to stay in Arnhem. The old fool's going to be arriving at Heathrow tomorrow morning."

Skimming over the letter, Martijn began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he rested his elbow on the table and put a hand to his forehead as he let the implications of Sander's words sink in. But he knew there was nothing he could do about it. "Well, it was only a matter of time, I suppose," he said, his tone resigned, "It isn't up to us what he chooses to do."

"Tijn, you know the only way he could use a wand would be to try and poke somebody's eye out. He's going to get himself killed."

Sander was understandably worried, but it made sense to Martijn why their father had done this. "Dad's a muggle, San, not an idiot."

"Well, he's certainly acting like one."

"He wants justice for what happened to Mum and Anneke as badly as we do, and just because he's not a wizard it isn't fair for us to try and stop him doing what he feels he ought to."

"Well, he's not much use if he's dead is he!" Sander snapped. It was so uncharacteristic of him, and Martijn knew his brother must be extremely upset to be acting like this. "That's supposed to be why he's got us. We promised we'd find the dark wizards who did it. Why does he think he has to get involved now?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons."

Sander gave an exasperated sigh. "Uncle Arien hasn't exactly helped," he said, gesturing at the letter, "Says he's given him Grandad's old assault rifle."

Now that did come as a shock to Martijn. For someone who was supposedly opposed to their father getting involved, that wasn't a very discouraging thing to do. "How the fuck is he going to get that through customs?"

"Oh, Arien's only gone and given him a magical trunk to keep it in as well," Sander said, "Not to mention he's charmed that old Colt revolver of his to never run out of ammo."

Realising the scope of Sander's anger towards their uncle, Martijn tried to play the diplomat. "Well, if he realised Dad was going to go ahead and do it anyway, perhaps he thought to try and make him as best prepared for it as possible."

"I get the impression that the limitless Colt rounds was what convinced Dad to get the first plane from Amsterdam in the morning."

Martijn sighed again. "Well, maybe Dad does have a point. Wizards aren't familiar with guns. The Death Eaters won't know how to deal with them, so perhaps he will have an advantage."

Sander raised a sceptical eyebrow, "You ever seen a bullet deflect an Unforgivable Curse?"

Sander had a point, but it wasn't going to make much difference. "Well, we're not going to be able to change his mind. I think the best we can do is to try and deal with things once he's arrived and make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble."

Sander just gave a frustrated grunt and buried his head in his hands, but didn't say anything.

Even though Martijn could understand what his brother was feeling, it was true that they weren't going to be able to change their father's mind. Jeroen Westerbeck was more stubborn than both his sons put together.

Martijn thought the best thing he could do right now was to try and take Sander's mind off things. "Anyway, I know something that will cheer you up," he said, looking at Sander who had his head down on the table. He got a raised head and a mildly curious expression in response.

"I got to meet Gwen Coulthard today."

Sander suddenly sat up. "Really? How come?"

"Well, she almost got eaten by a snake."

Sander's eyes widened and his curious expression became one of horror. "What?"

_Maybe I could have phrased that a bit better, _Martijn thought. "Oh, don't worry, she's fine. She just ran into one of the wizards that's currently on the wanted list and he tried to set a snake on her, but me and the others got there first. She's perfectly alright."

Sander didn't look convinced, and was already getting up out of his seat. "But is she though?" he said, "I mean, sure, she didn't get eaten, but come on. Wouldn't you be a little shaken if you almost got eaten by a snake?"

"Well…" Martijn began, realising too late that his attempts to stop Sander worrying had actually had the reverse effect.

"How big was it?" Sander said, crossing to the coat rack and taking a navy blue jacket off of one of the pegs.

There was no point lying. He'd already implied it was big enough to eat someone. "Big."

"Well, I'm gonna go see her."

Martijn sighed. Sander always had been the impulsive one: giving up his place on the Arnhem Adelaars Quidditch team to enrol for auror training on a whim, then deciding that actually he wanted to be a businessman instead. And now he'd decided he was going to spontaneously go and see one of his work clients without giving her any prior warning. Martijn didn't think it was the best idea in the world, but like with their father he doubted he'd be able to stop him. "Sander, you don't even know where she lives."

"Well, you enchanted all our stock with anti-theft charms, right?" the younger Dutchman replied as he shrugged on the jacket.

"Yes…" Martijn said, wondering where this was going.

"Well, I can use the locator on it then. I gave her one of our auroscopes, remember."

Martijn gave an exasperated sigh. "So, you're just going to show up at her house at this time in the evening, and when she wants to know how you found where she lives you're going to tell her 'Oh, you know that auroscope I gave you? It's actually a tracking device.' That is ever so slightly stalkerish, Sander.

"I don't think she'll mind, she knows me well enough. In fact she's probably too busy thinking about the snake that tried to eat her to worry about that."

Martijn tried one last attempt to change his mind, even though it was a bit of a long shot. "You know if you activate the anti-theft charm to use the locator you'll deactivate the device. If you really want to make sure she's safe from dark magic then it might be an idea to leave that it working order and not go spontaneously checking up on her."

"Well, it obviously didn't do much to help on this occasion, did it?" Sander retorted, "Besides, I'd rather know she's alright now and I can always reactivate it later."

Realising his brother wouldn't be dissuaded, Martijn sighed. "Yes, I suppose. Alright, if you really must go, but I assure you she's fine."

"I just want to check."

"Yeah, and while you're there…" Martijn was going to finish his sentence but Sander was already out the door. With a shake of his head, Martijn turned back into the kitchen and gave the kettle a poke with his wand. He'd discovered that English tea was actually a great thing to relax with after a hard day's hunting dark wizards, and after today he thought he particularly needed it.

**A/N: A bit more of Sander and Martijn for you there. I do love these two :) They're my joint second favourite characters in this after Barty.**

**'Adelaars' is a Dutch word meaning 'Eagles', which I got from the name of my sister's boyfriend's basketball team and translated it into Dutch. I think it goes quite well with Arnhem as the name of a Quidditch team.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-One**

Barty did call on Gwen after work, as promised, but it was only after much deliberation. He had two options: report back to Bella and Rodolphus first, and get caught up explaining everything that had happened and not having chance to get away again; or go and see Gwen first and face Bella's wrath later when he came back immensely late. In the end, he'd decided on the latter. If he got chance to talk to Gwen about what had happened earlier that day, then at least he'd be able to tell the Lestranges he'd found out something useful. He wanted to get chance to ask Gwen more about the snake, but was still worried that whatever it was she wanted to talk to him about would dominate the conversation. He didn't want to have to lie to her again, but he had a feeling it was going to be necessary.

When Barty arrived just before seven o' clock he went to the front door, and it felt a little strange to him to be knocking when last time he'd snuck in through the back window. He was glad when it was Gwen who answered – he'd rather not have to face up to her father if possible, given his own father's close working relationship with John Coulthard. She gave him a warm smile as she opened the door and he grinned back. He was quite surprised to see she'd changed into jeans and a pale blue t-shirt, not what he was used to seeing her in at all. Maybe this was the kind of thing she wore around the house on her days off.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she said back, before stepping away from the door to allow him inside. "Come on in. It's just me; Mum seems to live at the Ministry at the moment and Dad's gone back to work."

"Gone _back _to work?" he asked in a quizzical tone as he stepped into the hallway and shrugged off his work robes.

"Yeah," she said as she took his robes off him and hung them up on a coat peg. "He, um, he was at the Ministry earlier. I went to see Mum before I went home and he was with her, and when I told him what had happened he sort of flipped out a bit. But then he realised everything was alright and calmed down so he brought me home, and now he's gone back to work. I expect he'll probably be out until at least eight, what with everything going on at the moment."

"What was he doing at the Ministry?" he asked as she led him into the living room.

"Oh, um…" She seemed to be a little reluctant to tell him. "I think he was meeting with your father, actually." Noticing the scowl that was beginning to form on his face she quickly continued before he had chance to say anything. "But don't worry, I'm sure it wasn't about you. Something to do with the bank's security I think."

"Well," he said sulkily as they both sat down in the squashy brown sofa, "I'm pretty sure the subject of me will have come up at some point."

She sighed, "Don't worry about it, Barty. My Dad's not the kind of person who'll decide he dislikes you just because of what your father says to him."

He continued to scowl. "Well, we'll see when he gets home, won't we?"

She looked at him with a slight frown on her face. "Don't be like that."

He seemed to make an effort to cheer up and put on a smile. "Sorry," he said, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a purple cardboard packet. "Here. A chocolate frog, like I promised."

She smiled as she took it off him. "Thanks," she said and she looked like she was about to open it, but then sighed and set it down on the coffee table. "I'll eat it later. I think we best have that talk first."

This was the part he'd been dreading. He found his mouth had suddenly become rather dry when he dried to speak. "What did you want to ask?"

She looked at him and he watched her chew her lip nervously for a few seconds before saying something. "Barty, you know this…_project _you said you were involved in? Exactly how far did your involvement in dark magic go?"

He was going to have to answer carefully. He didn't know how far he could stretch the lie without it becoming unconvincing. "Why are you asking?" he asked cautiously.

She sighed and looked like she didn't really want to be having this conversation, but knew she couldn't avoid it. "Well, if we're going out with each other I don't think it's unreasonable for me to know to what extent you were involved in something like this? What if it's had some kind of _effect _on you or something? Don't you think it's something I should know about?"

He shook his head thoughtfully. "No, that's not what I meant. I meant what's brought this on? What's prompted you to ask this? When I told you last week you seemed fine with it. You seemed to accept it, but now you want to know more. Gwen, I'm really supposed to tell you anything, but if I knew _why _you were asking…"

She looked away from him and glanced down at the floor. "I, uh…" He noticed her face was reddening. "Well, I have this sort of…well, not _sort of, _I have this dark detector and I realised it had gone off last week after we, you know…" She turned to look at him again, and noticing the worried expression on his face her sentence quickly changed direction. "Please don't be mad at me. Don't think…oh, Barty, I'm sorry if this comes across as me being really unfair on you and not trusting you, but I just wish I knew what was going on. I know you probably aren't supposed to tell me anything, but I just can't stand being left in the dark anymore. I'm supposed to be your girlfriend but it feels like I don't even know you when there's all this stuff going on I don't understand."

He didn't say anything straight away, just sat up straighter and licked his lips rather nervously as he tried to work out how to respond. "What kind of dark detector?" he asked after a couple of moments.

"A, um, sort of sneakoscope," she replied, "Why does that matter?"

"Well, depending on what kind of magic was used to make the dark detector it might be affected by some of the stuff we used in the project," he offered as an explanation.

"Oh, right…" she said, still looking uncertain.

"I'd have to see it to be sure," he said, beginning to feel more confident in the lie now, "Show me."

She nodded. "Alright. Wait here, I won't be a moment." She got up off the sofa and left the room to head upstairs.

As she left the room he sighed and leant back into the sofa, shutting his eyes and feeling his stomach squirm uncomfortably. He didn't like having to lie to her, but he knew he'd only hurt her more if he told her the truth. He couldn't do that: not yet at any rate. Maybe not ever? He didn't even want to have to think about that. He'd rather deal with one problem at a time and not think too far into the future until it came to it. Which reminded him there was one more problem he had to be worrying about right now, thinking about the Ministry document he had in the inner pocket of his robes. Bellatrix and Rodolphus wouldn't be happy when they heard about that. Nor would any of the Death Eaters, Rookwood in particular. It was worrying what might happen to him as a result of it, but even more than that Barty was worried for himself. What if…

That thought was abruptly cut off by Gwen returning to the room and sitting down next to him. She held out her hand so he could see the spinning top-shaped object shape she was holding. "This is it," she said, but she was frowning at it, looking uncertain.

He looked at it and then at her. "Well, it's not doing anything now."

Her frown deepened. "No, it's not," she said thoughtfully, and then looked apologetic. "I guess…I guess I just overreacted. But I suppose there was _something _you did that could have set it off, right?"

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but inwardly he was just as confused as she was. Not that he wasn't grateful for the fact the sneakoscope seemed to be broken, but he knew full well that it ought to be going off. The fact that it wasn't only threw him out even further when it came to trying to think of an explanation. "Well, I guess so. Residual magic could have set it off earlier, I suppose."

She put the sneakoscope down next to the chocolate frog and then turned to look at him. "I'm sorry. The stupid thing's most likely just faulty, I don't think it's done a reliable thing since I've had it. I don't even know why I paid any attention to it. I'm probably just worrying too much about everything at the moment. Mum keeps telling me to be extra cautious but I really don't know what I was expecting you to say other than what you've just told me."

She seemed to be really upset with herself, and he put a comforting arm round her. "Don't worry about it. I think you've got every reason to be extra cautious given what happened to you today." Even though he knew the entire basis of this was a lie he still liked being able to make her feel better.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, leaning against him as they both settled further down into the sofa.

"What exactly happened?" he asked, concerned.

"Well, I just went to the shop, there was this creepy shopkeeper guy there with a giant snake, the snake tried to attack me and then Martijn showed up. That's all that happened really."

He looked down at her, wondering how she could be so calm about it. "What did the snake look like?" He was asking partly because he wanted something to be able to tell Bella, but mostly because he was genuinely worried about how much danger Gwen had been in.

"I don't know," she said, moving her left arm to wrap it round his waist. "Snakelike? It was scaly, and sort of browny-greenish, and big."

"How big?"

"Big enough to eat someone," she replied in a tone that suggested he didn't even want to know how she knew that.

She was somehow managing to remain calm while she talked about it, but it seemed to Barty like she was just trying to prevent herself from getting upset. He used the arm he had wrapped around her to pull her closer to him, and with his other hand he reached out to tilt her chin up to look at him. She watched him with wide grey eyes, waiting for him to speak.

"Gwen," he said sincerely, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said flatly.

He continued to look at her with concern. "Really? You don't seem it."

"I'll be fine," she replied. "I just had a bit of a rough day, that's all."

"You can say that again," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah, I did," she said looking up at him. "You know, I was so glad you were the first person I saw when they brought me into the Ministry."

He smiled down at her, feeling a rather pleasant sensation spread over him as she said those words. "You mean that?"

"Yeah, of course. It was good to know there'd be somebody there who actually cares about me but wouldn't flip out completely. And, well, I know it probably didn't seem this way with everything I was saying earlier, but I do really _like _you, Barty."

He couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "I really _like _you too, Gwen."

She seemed to notice he was teasing her and gave a small smile. "Oh, shut up," she said, before leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was gentle at first, their lips just touching softly for a few seconds before he put both of his hands in her hair to press her closer to him and parted his lips. She responded with a slight gasp and moved her own hands to the back of his neck as they continued to kiss. It had only been going on for a few seconds before they were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking insistently at the door.

They broke off the kiss, but continued to stare into each other's eyes with their foreheads touching for a few more seconds. Barty couldn't help but feel an ache of disappointment as the knocking continued. He was tempted to tell her to just ignore it so they could carry on, but just as the thought crossed his mind she pulled away from him. "I'd better get that," she said before getting up from the sofa and going to answer the door, leaving Barty feeling nothing but resentment for whoever it was who was calling.

The feeling was only exacerbated as he heard the door open and a Dutch accent speak from outside. "Gwen, are you alright?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Two**

Gwen wasn't sure who to expect when she went to answer the door, but she certainly hadn't thought it would be Sander. Someone from the Ministry, maybe, or an auror who'd come to inform her of something they'd forgotten about earlier, or perhaps even Martijn. But most definitely not Sander.

When she opened the door and saw who it was she was too surprised to even say anything for a couple of seconds, but he spoke first, quickly and urgently with his voice full of concern. "Gwen, are you alright?"

After a moment's silence she managed to reply. "Um, yeah, fine." She wasn't really thinking about the answer, but instead was more worried about the fact that Barty was sat only a few metres away in the living room and would be able to hear everything they said.

"Martijn told me what happened," Sander said, still sounding worried, "I came as soon as he told me. He said you were alright but I just wanted to be sure."

"Oh." As much as she was flattered that he cared enough to come and see her, she wasn't sure if she wanted him here with Barty only in the other room. It seemed like it was best to keep them apart. "Well, that was very thoughtful of you, but, er…how did you find out where I live?"

"It's all down to Martijn, really," he said vaguely. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Um, well…" she wasn't sure how to respond, not wanting to sound rude by turning him away, but she was spared the ordeal of having to answer by the sound of someone speaking behind her.

"Gwen, what is it?"

She turned round to see Barty had gotten up and was now standing at the living room door, and was looking past her to where Sander was stood in the doorway. "It's Sander, right?" he said, addressing the Dutchman in a cold tone.

Gwen turned back to Sander and saw that his look of concern had turned to a much more hostile expression. "Yes, and you're Barty Crouch, aren't you?" he responded equally coolly.

Barty took a few steps forward to stand just behind Gwen and put an arm round her waist. She wished he wouldn't do that. In general he didn't act possessively and she knew he was only doing it to torment Sander, but he wasn't being fair. Even though Gwen could understand Barty resenting the interruption, she also knew Sander was here with the best of intentions and she hoped Barty wasn't about to have a go at him.

"So you heard about what happened today then?" Barty asked, his tone not exactly nasty but he still made it clear he didn't want Sander there.

"Actually, yes. My brother was the one fought the snake in question," Sander replied, still looking at Barty with a contemptuous glare.

Gwen could sense the hostility between them, and she thought she was going to be the one playing the diplomat again. "Sander," she said calmly, "I'm really grateful that you've come round, but really you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. Martijn did his job well," she finished with a smile.

Sander still didn't look like he wanted to let it drop. "What happened, exactly?" he asked her, "I mean, before Martijn turned up?"

Gwen sighed. "I've already gone through all that at the Ministry earlier, and then Barty's just been asking about it, and really there's nothing much to say. There was some creep with a giant snake, that's all. I don't really want to talk about it any more. Like I said, I'm fine. Do you mind if we just leave it at that?"

Sander was frowning, but Gwen felt Barty lean even closer to her and wrap his arm even further round her waist. She wanted to tell him to stop it, but she couldn't exactly say anything with Sander watching. "Yes, Gwen's had a rough day and she's feeling rather tired now," Barty said smoothly, "We appreciate you calling, but Gwen's said she doesn't want to discuss what happened any further and I think it's best if you just leave her to get some rest."

_Now that's pushing it a bit, _Gwen thought. She saw Sander's eyes flash with anger and she thought she ought to step in again. "Barty, it's fine," she said. "I can speak for myself." She thought she saw just a hint of a smug smirk cross Sander's face and she definitely felt Barty tense slightly, so she quickly continued. "But yeah, it has been a pretty long day. I do just want to go to bed now. I'll see you on Thursday, Sander, and I might talk about this with you then, but not right now."

Sander glared at Barty for a few moments longer and then looked at Gwen and sighed. "Alright," he said, resigned, "I'll go. But can you just let me see your auroscope first? I had to use the remote locator on it to get here and it'll need reactivating."

"Oh," said Gwen, not really understanding what he meant but just wanting him to leave as soon as possible. "Um, alright. I guess you could come in just for a bit, then, while I go get it." She stepped back to let him through and as Barty stepped to one side to let Sander pass they exchanged a confrontational glare. Gwen sighed, wishing they wouldn't behave like this, and led Sander through to the living room. She picked the auroscope up off the table and handed it to him. "What exactly do you want to do with it?"

He took it off her and shrugged. "Well, it's a prototype model and it's got this inbuilt anti-theft thing, sort of like a reset button. It just needs rebooting, if you know what I mean."

Gwen didn't really know what he meant, and she glanced over at Barty who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at Sander's back with what Gwen thought was a slightly worried and very angry expression, but then he met her gaze and gave her a small smile as if to say, "Don't worry, we'll be rid of him soon."

She looked back to Sander who was messing round with the auroscope with his wand, and then he held it out to give back to Gwen. She took it off him and turned it over in her hand to examine it. It looked no different to her. It briefly crossed her mind that maybe that had all been a ruse just so Sander could get into the house and get one up on Barty, but she quickly dismissed it as she realised that wasn't at all the kind of thing Sander would do. She gave him a small smile. "Um, thanks?"

He gave her a nod and then flashed one more angry glance in Barty's direction and began to put his wand away, but his hand froze half way to his pocket as he and Barty made eye contact. Gwen wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but the two of them simply stood glaring each other for a couple of seconds before Sander began to stride towards Barty with a furious look on his face. "You…" he snarled.

"Me what?" Barty responded, his tone mocking.

"What did you do?" Sander growled, stopping so that he was just a couple of feet in front of Barty with his wand raised.

Barty just smirked. "Nothing."

Utterly confused and sensing that she could have a serious fight on her hands, Gwen took a few quick paces towards Sander to grab his shoulder and pull him away. "Sander, what the hell are you doing?"

He turned to look at her, and his livid expression suddenly placated. "I'm sorry," he said, and he seemed to mean it even though Gwen had no idea what had caused him to act like that in the first place. He glanced once more at Barty and then at the floor. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that...no, it doesn't matter. I think I'll go now." He turned and strode out of the room towards the exit, and although Gwen partly wanted to stop him she was too stunned by what had just happened to make a move.

After she heard the front door close she turned back to Barty. "What the hell…?"

He looked at her, his expression just as apologetic as Sander's. "I have no idea," he said, "But Gwen, I think it's probably best I get going too."

"What?" she said, confused, "Don't let him spoil things! I don't know _what _just went off but it seems pretty pointless if you're both just going to walk out and leave me without an explanation."

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he said, walking over to her and trying to lean down to kiss her goodbye, but she pushed him away.

"No, that's not fair," she said. "Why don't you tell me what all that was about?"

He gave a frustrated sigh. "Because _I don't know, _Gwen."

She shook her head. "Well, don't pretend you haven't been trying to get that kind of reaction out of him. Why do you have to be mean to him like that? You always start acting like a complete git when he's around..."

"In what way?" he interjected defensively.

"Well, you get all possessive like you want to torment him or make him jealous or something."

Barty looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I've met him twice."

"And you acted the same way on both occasions," she snapped back. "What's he done to you before now to deserve that? He's a decent guy, Barty, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have acted that way unless you'd done something to drive him to it."

He scowled at her. "So you're saying this is my fault?"

"Well, just as much as it is his! Don't tell me you aren't deliberately trying to wind him up," she burst out angrily.

He glared at her in silence for a couple of seconds. "Fine. If you really think like that then maybe you don't want me here."

With a rather angry expression he turned and began to head towards the door, but she tried to stop him. "No, Barty, wait!"

He glanced back at her, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't mean…I just…I'm sorry. Whatever just happened can we forget about it now? You're right, you weren't the one who started squaring up to him so I guess I shouldn't be mad at you."

"No," he said bluntly, "But anyway, I still have to go. I've got things to do."

"Barty…" she said, hurt by the way he said that to her and angry with herself for upsetting him, but it didn't stop him as he continued to walk towards the front door, snatching his robes angrily off of the coat peg on his way out.

"Goodbye, Gwen," he said without looking at her, and then the door closed behind him and he was gone.

Gwen continued to stare silently at the door for a few more seconds, hoping he would come back. He didn't.

She turned to sit back down on the living room sofa and started to cry.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been writing tons of other stuff recently but I've decided to put all that on hold now to get back to focussing on this. I've just finished a Doctor Who crossover fic I've been working on for a while and I did start trying to write more DW fanfics, but actually I found I was getting a bit tired of it. As much as I like David Tennant's nice characters they aren't half as interesting as his evil ones, so here's a bit more of Barty.**

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Three**

Barty was fuming with rage when he left Gwen's house that evening. Not at Gwen, but at Westerbeck for managing to work it out, and even more than that he was angry with himself for having gotten mad at Gwen. It wasn't her fault, but how in hell had Westerbeck known? Barty had thought he'd been discreet, silently casting the counter-charm with his wand still in his pocket, but somehow the Dutchman had still been able to tell he'd done something. Even though Gwen hadn't seemed to be following what Westerbeck was on about, Barty had been able to work it out: the sneakoscope thing had been deactivated, that was why it hadn't gone off. And if Barty wanted it to stay that way he was going to have to do something.

The counter-charm to what Westerbeck was doing was well beyond advanced NEWT level, but then Barty had always prided himself on being able to master spells most wizards struggled to get the hang of. Without knowing what specific spell Westerbeck was casting on the sneakoscope Barty had had to use an adaptive counter charm: it would do the opposite of any other spell that was cast nearby, and the whole point of it was that it was covert. So how had Westerbeck known what he was doing? Barty hadn't screwed up the spell, he knew that much, otherwise the sneakoscope no doubt would have started going off. But the Dutchman had still known something was wrong.

Barty's hands balled into fists in anger, realising he was going to have to be more careful around Sander Westerbeck in future. He'd love nothing more than to hex the bastard all the way back to Amsterdam, or wherever the hell he was from, but he knew the untempered animosity he felt wasn't solely to do with the fact that Westerbeck seemed to suspect him. If he was honest with himself, Barty knew it was entirely down to jealousy.

Gwen liked Westerbeck. She seemed to enjoy being with him and she stuck up for him when she thought Barty was winding him up. Barty couldn't help but feel a bitter pang of envy at that thought. He wanted it to be _him _she loved being with, not Westerbeck, although he thought he could understand why Westerbeck had managed to charm her so much. He took her for ice cream, gave her gifts and checked up on her when he was worried about her. He even got to see her at work, whereas whenever Barty tried to do that it only got him into trouble. But Westerbeck shouldn't be anything to her. All he was was a client, whereas Barty was her boyfriend. It was his _right _to be the one who got to do those kind of things for her.

Barty flexed his fingers again before balling his hands into even tighter fists. It felt like Westerbeck was trying to push him out of the picture, acting more like Gwen's boyfriend than he did. Well, Barty wasn't going to let him get away with it. He knew he'd been unfair on Gwen and she was probably upset with him right now, but he was going to make it up to her, and make it up to her in such a way that Westerbeck couldn't even begin to compare to it. That was what she deserved.

He was still smirking at the thought of what he could do to get back at Westerbeck when he apparated back to the house. As he arrived in the hallway he was more than a little surprised to find the house was completely dark and silent. He'd expected Bellatrix and Rodolphus to be waiting for him, but all the lights were out and the house seemed strangely empty. He took a few steady steps forward towards the kitchen, pushing all thoughts of Gwen and Westerbeck to the back of his mind as he realised something might be wrong._ Have they been found out? _he wondered as he stepped through the kitchen door, drawing his wand.

His eyes scanned the kitchen for a few moments, nervously looking to see if anything was out of the ordinary, but just as he registered a flicker of movement in the corner of his vision he heard a furious voice cry out, "_Stupefy!_" and he felt himself be knocked off his feet and to the floor. Gritting his teeth, he realised that once again he'd been too slow to respond to the attack. He was going to have to work on that.

"_Expelliar…_" he began to counter, but before he had chance to finish he felt his own wand be ripped out of his hand and somebody was on top of him, hands pushing his wrists to the floor to prevent him from trying to get up.

Barty stared up into black eyes that were wide with fury. "Where have you been?" Bellatrix yelled at him, utterly livid.

He glared right back up at her and tried to push her off, but she quickly moved her hand to slap him round the face. Barty gave a grunt of pain as her hand made contact, but she was still pinning him to the floor. "If you've done anything to lead them to us…" she spat, her voice dripping with rage as she leaned closer to Barty, her face only inches from his.

"Well, I haven't," he snarled, "So get the fuck off of me." He started to sit up but she violently pushed him back down. He tried to shove her away again but she moved her left hand away from his arm to press the tip of her wand into his throat. At the sharp sensation biting into his skin he went still again and instead just glared at her. He knew just how dangerous Bella could be when she was angry.

"Then where were you?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper but somehow more threatening than ever.

"I had to find out some stuff," he said in answer, hoping she was going to let him up now so he could give her the documents but she didn't move.

"Really?" she taunted, pressing her wand harder against his throat. "Because you've been gone for hours Crouch, and you didn't think to tell us what you were doing, which seems like pretty suspicious behaviour for someone in your position."

A hollow laugh escaped him as he realised what she was implying. "You think I'm in league with _them? _Think I'm spying on you, Bella? Believe me, I'd rather die than do anything to help those bastards."

She smirked at him. "That's a rather big claim to make, and I'm not sure if I should believe you. I might just have to do something to test it."

She dragged the tip of her wand across his skin and he let out a hiss of pain. There was a manic glint in her eye and he felt his heart rate quicken as he wondered what she might be thinking. What was she going to do to him? "Bella, for fuck's sake…"

"_Bella!"_

The sound of a voice barking Bella's name suddenly cut Barty off. His eyes flickered over to the kitchen entrance to see Rodolphus standing in the doorway and looking sternly down at both of them. As Barty realised that he was lying on the kitchen floor with Rod's wife on top of him he suddenly felt a surge of heat rush to his face. Bella didn't look at her husband, but as she noticed Barty's embarrassment her sadistic grin widened even further.

"So he's turned up then?" Rod said, raising an eyebrow at the pair's awkward position but not commenting on it.

"He has," Bella said, still with her wand pressing into Barty's neck, "Although maybe we would have found him earlier if you'd been looking more thoroughly." The final part of that sentence was directed rather disdainfully at her husband.

"Well, now that he's here we can ask him where he's been," Rodolphus responded with more than a note of irritation in his voice. "So Crouch, where were you?"

Barty's eyes flickered from Rodolphus back to Bella but he didn't answer immediately. Bella had moved her wand so that it was pressing rather uncomfortably into his trachea and he knew that it would only hurt if he tried to talk. If she wanted answers she was going to have to let him up.

Bella, however, seemed to have no intention of moving. She just continued to glare down at him and he looked back up at her nervously. His mouth was open slightly and his tongue darted out of his mouth to run over his bottom lip, as was his habit when he was nervous. He knew he should try and be more careful when it came to hiding his emotions, but the action was involuntary and he often didn't even realise he was doing it. Bella however had noticed and she gave him a sinister grin, taking it as a sign that he was scared. "Answer him!" she yelled at Barty, jabbing her wand even harder into his neck.

Barty sucked in a gasp of pain as the point of her wand bit into his windpipe, but it was too painful to move his throat muscles to vocalise a response. Bellatrix continue to glare expectantly at him, waiting for him to answer, but then he heard Rodolphus give a sigh before speaking. "Bella, just let him up. If he was going to bring the aurors to us they would be here by now, I don't think he's done anything untrustworthy."

Bellatrix turned her head to glare furiously at her husband for a second, but then she abruptly stood up and backed away, allowing Barty to pick himself up of the floor. Barty inhaled deeply as he stood up and swallowed several times to alleviate the sensation of something pinching his windpipe, but he didn't put up a hand to rub his neck, not wanting to show any more signs of weakness. He glanced briefly at Rodolphus for a moment, before fixing his gaze on Bella with an indignant glare. "Something happened at the department today that I thought might be a lead. Turns out it wasn't, but I thought I'd follow it up," he said rather angrily, thinking that after the way she'd just treated him he didn't want to tell Bellatrix anything about the snake, "But anyway, here's what you were after," he spat, reaching into his robes and taking out the apparition report which he thrust violently at her.

She snatched it off of him and shot him a glare before unfolding it and starting to read. She stared at the parchment for a few seconds in silence, and Barty watched as her expression grew increasingly frustrated. "Four untraceable disapparitions," she said, paraphrasing the document, "That must have been us going back to Malfoy's. One scrambled trail to the forest they weren't able to follow, that must have been Wormtail. A dozen or so apparitions in the vicinity which must have been the aurors; and absolutely nothing else. Well that was bloody useful, wasn't it?" she spat in frustration, glaring at Barty as if it was his fault.

Barty glared right back. "Well, just be glad you _were _untraceable," he said, "Because we've got something else to be worrying about." He took out the other document he'd taken from Laura's desk and held it out to them. They both eyed it with looks of apprehensive curiosity and Rodolphus began to reach out to take it off him, but Bellatrix snatched it away from him first. Even as she began to unfold the piece of parchment Barty began to explain what was on it. "Karkaroff's requested a second hearing," he told them, "He wants to do a bargain. Information in exchange for a reduced sentence."

As he disclosed that information he saw Rodolphus' eyes widen, but Bella just continued to glare at him. "We're already on top of their list of suspects," she said dismissively, "I doubt he has anything to gain by giving them _our _names. And as for the others, you've seen how cowards like Malfoy are already trying to distance themselves from the Dark Lords _true _followers. Karkaroff himself's a coward and if he hands over any other traitors then they all deserve to spend their lives in Azkaban."

Barty just stared at her, unsure whether she'd missed the point he was getting at or if she just didn't care. "But what about me?" he said, the pitch of his voice rising slightly as he began to feel panic, "He knows about me. What if he hands me in?"

Bella just looked at him with an expression of complete indifference. "Well, I don't see why that should be _our _problem. Unless you were thinking that you might be able to bargain with information about us too, in which case…" she began to raise her wand again and Barty was preparing to back off, but Rodolphus intervened.

"He won't, Crouch," Rod said in a tone of absolute certainty.

Barty looked at him, still not convinced. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because he wants to have his sentence decreased, not worsened," Rodolphus explained, "Your father's one of the most senior members of the Ministry, Crouch, which makes any accusation of you an indirect attack on him. If Karkaroff names you as a Death Eater he's more likely to get himself thrown back into Azkaban immediately and have his sentence upped for making false accusations and contempt of court. Besides, you were only with us a week before he managed to get himself captured. Even if he dared try and name you he hasn't got any evidence to back it up."

_That was true_, Barty thought, but he still couldn't stop himself feeling nervous and panicked at the prospect of what might happen if Karkaroff _were _to name him. He knew he wouldn't avoid a life sentence in Azkaban just because of his father. If anything, he thought that it only made the harshest sentence possible all the more likely. "Right," Barty said, sounding somewhat calmer as he realised Rod's argument made sense. "So now what?"

"What do you mean, 'now what'?" Bellatrix suddenly snapped, "You haven't exactly been much help to us so far. The deal was you could stay here if you proved your loyalty and I don't see that you've done that."

He glared right back at her. "Well, it's not exactly my fault the apparition report was fucking useless, is it?"

"Maybe not," she snarled, "But you didn't exactly send…" She was beginning to take a step towards him as if she might be about to try and attack him again, but Rodolphus put up his arm to stop her.

"Bella," he said calmly, "He's done what we asked him to and no doubt he's spent the entire day worrying about this business with Karkaroff. Give him a break."

Bella shot him a glare and then turned back to Barty. "Alright," she said, "Since this perhaps wasn't the best opportunity for you I'll give you one more chance to prove your worth to us." She raised her wand again and Barty watched it nervously, but then she said, "_Accio _wand," and Barty's wand flew off the floor into her hand. She held it out to him and he took it off her rather roughly. "Right then, Crouch," she said abruptly, "I've got one more task for you." She turned and headed out of the kitchen.

Rodolphus looked like he might try and stop her for a moment, but then he stood to one side to allow Barty to follow her. Barty gave him a slightly nervous glance before following Bella out into the hallway and up the stairs. She led him through into one of the empty bedroom and Barty felt his stomach squirm uncomfortably as he realised this was where they'd kept Laura last night. As he entered the room and looked in front of him he saw that she was still there, tied up and unconscious on the floor.

Barty looked from Laura to Bella, who smirked at him as she noticed the discomfort written all over his face.

"What's she still doing here?" Barty asked.

"Well, we've been interrogating her all afternoon trying to find out what had happened to you," Bellatrix replied as she crossed to Laura and pointed her wand at her. Barty watched as Laura began to stir but Bella continued talking. "But since you're here now I suppose we don't really need to do that anymore, so," she said, turning to face Barty as Laura blinked her eyes open and stared around her in utter terror. She was gagged, preventing her from screaming, but Barty could see the fear in her eyes.

Bellatrix smirked at him. "So now you can kill her."

Barty just stared at her for a few seconds, not quite comprehending. "What?"

"Kill her," Bellatrix repeated quite simply.

Barty was still struggling to grasp what she was asking. _Kill her. Actually kill her. _He'd always known she was probably going to have to die; it was unavoidable, but he'd never really considered that he would be the one to do it. "But…I…I've never…"

"There's a first time for everything," Bella said, still smirking at him. "Come on, Barty. If you want to truly serve the Dark Lord well then you're going to have to learn."

Barty glanced briefly up at her. _That's the first time she's used my first name, _he realised, but then he found himself drawn to looking back at Laura, seeing the terrified expression in her tear filled eyes. _Quite pathetic really, _he thought, but then why was he still so hesitant to do what Bella had asked him to do?

He was gripping his wand tightly but it was still in his hand by his side, as he felt unable to bring himself to raise it. Bellatrix began to take a few steps towards him and he heard Rodolphus say her name from somewhere behind him, almost like a warning, but she ignored him. In a matter of seconds she was standing right beside Barty and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Don't be afraid," she muttered softly, "She's just a stupid mudblood bitch. The Dark Lord wants her dead. You'd be doing him an _honour _if you killed her."

Barty let her words wash over him. An _honour. _That's what this would be to the Dark Lord. Something he would be valued and respected for. After all, what was the worth of this pathetic little mudblood's life compared to that? Bella was right, this was what the Dark Lord wanted.

_But still, I'm actually going to have to kill her. _

Even though he tried to reason with himself he couldn't stop the doubt plaguing his mind. His heart was racing and his breath was coming in shallow gasps. He gripped his wand tighter to make sure the sweat on his palms didn't cause him to drop it. Beside him Bella leaned in closer and whispered to him again. "You think you're worth anything to the Dark Lord? Then prove it."

_Worth anything…_the words seemed to resonate in his mind as the full scope of their meaning began to become clear to him. Laura was still staring up at him, her expression pleading, tears streaming down her face, but it barely seemed real to him any more. What was real was his beliefs, and his loyalty, and his faith that the Dark Lord would return.

Bella had asked him to prove it, and prove it he would.

Barty raised his wand, relishing the feel of the words as they began to form on his lips.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

**A/N: I wasn't really sure if I was going to have him actually do it, but I think I made the right call in the end. He does actually need to do some evil stuff in this story before torturing the Longbottoms - he can't just go straight in with being a full-on sadist, I think there needs to be some build up. I'm making myself a bit worried for Gwen though, because I don't quite know how she's going to react when she finds out about him and how he responds to that. But that's part of why I enjoy writing this story so much, I don't always know exactly how things are going to turn out.  
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	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: So, so sorry again for the slow update. My only excuse this time is that I've been doing overtime at work and I really couldn't be bothered to write when I got home afterwards. I was really intending to update this story more often now that it's summer, but it doesn't seem to be happening. I'm really going to try and work on that because I know exactly what I want to happen and I need to write it, because if I put it off too long I might end up losing all enthusiasm for it. So, here's the next chapter. I know it seems to be a bit of a sudden jump from the last one, but I'm trying to keep things moving forward so please try and go with the flow.**

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Four**

When Thursday morning came round Sander found himself sitting on the chair outside Gwen's office, instead of knocking and going inside like he usually did. He wasn't sure if she was still mad at him. If she was then he could understand that, but he still didn't think he was wrong. Crouch had done something, Sander was sure of it. Even if he wasn't sure exactly what, after he'd finished with the auroscope and looked up to see Crouch watching him with that strange look in his eyes, Sander had sensed that something was wrong. Maybe he'd overreacted, but there was something really off about Barty Crouch Jr, and off in a suspicious way. That had been the first thing he'd said to Martijn when he arrived back from Gwen's, but Martijn's reaction had been pretty much what he'd expected. He hadn't been convinced at all.

Sander was remembering the conversation. His brother had been dismissive right from the start. "Sander, don't be ridiculous, he's the son of the head of their MLE department. What do you imagine he's up to?" Martijn had said sceptically, the moment after Sander had apparated back into the apartment and started ranting about Barty Crouch.

Despite Martijn's attempts to reason with him Sander was still worked up about it. "I don't know, Martijn, but he did something. I may not know what exactly but I'm _sure_ he was trying to stop the auroscope working."

Martijn hadn't believed him, no matter how much he'd insisted. "That doesn't even make sense, San. Why would he do that?"

"Well, he'd do it if he was involved in the Dark Arts, wouldn't he? I think we should keep an eye on him and try and get more information. We need to find out what he's up to."

As soon as he'd said that Sander realised just how crazy that must seem. He knew that suggestion was ridiculous: the accusation against Crouch seemed absurd, and he was asking Martijn to take a huge risk with his job on the basis of very little evidence, but Sander was completely certain he was right. Martijn, however, still wasn't convinced. "What do you mean 'we'?" he'd responded, sounding a little horrified, "If you're so determined to investigate him I don't suppose there's much I can do to stop you, San, but if _I_ get caught spying on the son of Bartemius Crouch Sr. it could cost me my job."

Sander gave him an apologetic look, knowing it was a lot to ask of him, but he knew he couldn't let this go. After what had happened to Anneke it didn't matter how far-fetched his suspicions may seem. He wasn't going to take any risks with Gwen. "I know, Tijn, but what if I'm right?" Sander had pleaded, "Are you really going to risk _that_ happening again?"

Martijn let out a frustrated sigh. "San, have you even got any evidence?"

"Well, not exactly, no, but…" Sander trailed off, realising that telling Martijn about the incident with the foe glass wasn't really going to be much in the way of proof.

"But what?" Martijn had prompted.

Sander hesitated a moment before answering, hoping his brother would take him seriously. "Well, the other day when I went to take Gwen that foe glass I saw his face in it."

"Sander…" Martijn let out a long sigh. "How much of this is because you genuinely think he's up to something bad, and how much of it is just jealousy that he's going out with Gwen?"

"Martijn, it's got nothing to do with that," Sander said defensively, although in all honesty he could understand Martijn's reaction. In truth he _was _jealous of Barty, but he wasn't going to admit to that if it cast doubt on his suspicions.

"Really?" Martijn said sceptically.

"Yes, really," Sander had replied, but the look on his brother's face showed that Martijn clearly didn't believe him, so they'd left the conversation there. Although Sander was absolutely determined he wasn't going to leave Crouch alone until he knew what was going on, he and Martijn had more immediate concerns. They needed to sort out the problem with their father first, but Sander intended to try and get to the bottom of what Crouch was up to as soon as possible.

Sander had been the one to pick up Jeroen from the airport the following morning while Martijn was working on the Sirius Black case. They'd gotten a taxi back to the apartment due to Jeroen's wariness towards wizard travel, but that meant they couldn't have any conversations about the situation in earshot of the muggle driver. Sander had had every intention of trying to convince his father to go back to Amsterdam the moment they got back to the apartment, but once they'd arrived Sander had been in for another surprise to find his uncle Arien waiting for them. Which was perhaps just as well. Jeroen's brother-in-law was the only person on the planet he might listen to.

It seemed that Arien had changed his mind about agreeing to Jeroen going to England and had apparated straight to London to try and get him to go back. Jeroen, however, didn't want to listen to any of it and the whole thing had descended into an argument almost from the moment they'd seen each other. Sander had decided to leave them to it while he went to work. When he'd got back later that day he'd found his father still insistent on remaining in the UK, but he really hadn't had much energy to continue arguing with him about it. He was too preoccupied thinking about Gwen.

Even as he sat waiting for her to call him into the office now he was worried he'd ruined things completely. They'd had a good relationship with each other, and even though Sander wasn't entirely sure what the exact nature of that relationship was he hadn't wanted to spoil it. She had sort of been a friend to him, or maybe not exactly a friend, but definitely much more than just a client. But now what? Now he was worried she wouldn't want anything more to do with him except in a business capacity. He'd completely lost control the other night, and he was certain that when it came to who to trust over the issue she was more likely to side with her boyfriend rather than him. Even if her boyfriend was an arrogant, untrustworthy little…

The door to Gwen's office suddenly opened and Sander quickly jumped up from the chair. Gwen was standing in the doorway and looking out at him with a completely blank expression. "It's eleven. You best come in," she said flatly, before turning away from the door to let him inside.

He followed her in, feeling more nervous than ever. "Sorry about Martijn not being here yet," he said, trying to sound bright but even to himself he sounded false. "I think he's got caught up with something at work."

"It's no problem," Gwen said in the same emotionless tone as she took a seat at her desk. "I can wait for him to show up."

Sander took a seat opposite her and studied her face carefully, trying to work out what she was really feeling. She didn't say anything more to him and he shifted around uncomfortably. As much as he didn't want to have to talk about this with her, he knew it was going to come up at some point. Best to get it over with while Martijn wasn't here. "Look, Gwen," he began rather awkwardly, "I am really, really sorry about last night. I don't know what happened, it's just that…"

"It's fine," she said, cutting him off abruptly. He stopped talking and just looked at her. She was meeting his gaze, which was something, but her expression was completely indecipherable. She didn't exactly look angry, but she still seemed…troubled, was perhaps the word for it. Something was quite clearly bothering her, and Sander had a horrible feeling that it might be him.

He gave a sigh. "But it's not fine, is it? I mean…I must have messed things up for you. How are things with you and Barty?"

"They're _fine,_" she repeated insistently.

He looked at her sceptically. "Really?"

"Yes," she said with a nod, but then she looked slightly doubtful and bit her lip nervously. "I just wish I knew what exactly the problem is with you two. What did he do? Or what did _you_ do, exactly?"

Sander sighed again. He knew he was going to have to explain to her, but if he told her what he was really thinking she might only end up hating him even more. "Well, I thought that he'd done something when I was trying to reactivate the auroscope. It seemed like…"

"No," Gwen said to cut him off, giving a confused shake of her head. "That's what I still don't get. What's the auroscope got to do with any of this? What was wrong with it?"

Sander squirmed in his seat a little uncomfortably. She wasn't going to like the answer, just like Martijn had warned him she wouldn't. "Well, it's a prototype model so we put an anti-theft charm on it, which means that it's fitted with a remote locator so we can always find out where it is. The thing is though if the charm's activated then the auroscope gets deactivated, so…"

"Wait," she said, cutting him off again, "So you're saying you gave me something with a tracking device on it that let you find out where I live?" She was staring at him with a look of disbelief.

"Er…well, yes," Sander said, beginning to blush slightly, "But I never intended to use it. I was just really worried about you, that's all. It was the quickest way to find out where you were, and I'm sorry if it was out of line."

Gwen just stared at him for a couple more seconds, seemingly a cross between angry and incredulous, and then sighed and closed her eyes slowly before opening them again. "I know you were worried, San," she said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, "But I still just can't understand why you reacted like that to Barty. I know you don't like each other, but what exactly do you think he did?"

"I, er…" Sander was struggling for an answer. He couldn't explain it properly, not in any way that would convince her, but he still knew he had to tell her something. Barty Crouch Jr. was trouble, and she needed to know about it. But how could he get her to believe him when he wasn't even sure what was wrong himself? "Well," Sander began, "When I was charming the auroscope I got the sense that something hadn't gone quite right, and then when I looked up at him it seemed like…"

He was spared having to say anything more by the sound of the door opening and Martijn walking in. "I'm sorry I'm late," the Dutchman said a little breathlessly, "I've just been arresting Sirius Black. Got here as soon as I could, but the clean-up operation's massive and they'll need me back there as soon as possible."

Gwen and Sander exchanged a glance as Martijn sat down in the seat next to his brother, and then Gwen quickly looked away and took a file from the side of her desk which she opened up in front of her. "It's no problem," she said, trying to sound casual for Martijn's benefit but it still came out sounding forced. "I guess we should get started then." She looked back up at Sander briefly and then fixed her gaze on Martijn.

Martijn seemed to have noticed something was up and looked from Gwen to Sander, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly at his brother but choosing not to comment. "Yes, let's. Right then, business plans," he said, turning back to Gwen.

Gwen met Sander's gaze one last time, and then realising that their conversation wasn't going to go any further with Martijn around she looked back down at the documents in front of her. "Ok, so proposals for responding to changes to the current circumstances in terms of investment," she said, now businesslike as she commenced the meeting, "Firstly, whether or not you can continue to rely on the current investors in the Valkenburg aan de Geul mines…"

**A/N: Sorry if that was rather abrupt. I've not actually covered everything I wanted to this chapter, but I didn't want to go more than a week without updating so I'm uploading what I managed to get done. There'll be more of an explanation of Sander and Martijn's history next time round, more about what happened to Gwen after Barty stormed out, how Barty's dealing with things and how he makes up with Gwen. So, lots to look forward to. I'll try to not keep you waiting too long!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Five**

When the pair of them finally left after the meeting Gwen couldn't help but feel relieved. Even though there was still a lot she needed to talk about with Sander she really didn't want to discuss it right now. Despite what she'd told him about things being fine between her and Barty, they really weren't. She hadn't actually spoken to him since that evening, and she was seriously worried about how upset he might be with her. Her reaction to the argument probably hadn't been fair on him, and Sander had probably deserved her to get mad at him just as much as Barty had. But after what had happened with Barty she just didn't have the energy to be angry at Sander as well. She was sure he'd only meant well, but his attitude towards Barty was still troubling her. What had he been talking about earlier, saying he thought Barty had done something to the auroscope? At first that hadn't made sense to her, but the more she thought about it the more it worried her. The auroscope had gone off around Barty before, and even though he'd provided a perfectly good explanation for it she was growing less and less convinced. Was it possible he actually had actually done something to stop Sander reactivating the auroscope? If he had, then that meant he hadn't been honest with her, and she was getting incredibly worried about what the real reason was. As much as she wanted to put all of Sander's suspicions down to jealousy, it wasn't that simple. Sander and Barty didn't like each other, that much was obvious, but Sander manufactured dark detectors for a living and if he had concerns then she probably shouldn't write him off. But then again, Barty worked in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, for Merlin's sake. What was she supposed to think?

Gwen remembered back to the evening of the argument, trying to make more sense of it. Immediately after Barty had stormed out she'd been left feeling completely bewildered and upset, but she'd later found out more from her father. When John had come home to find her crying on the sofa he'd immediately wanted to know what was wrong, and she'd told him part of the story, not wanting to go into all the details of what had happened between Sander and Barty. His initial response had been to tell her that Barty was acting like an idiot and it wasn't worth getting upset over, which had made her feel ever so slightly better, but then he'd told her about the conversation he'd had with Barty's father earlier that day and that had only made her feel even worse.

So Barty had moved away from home. That must be pretty stressful for him, and it kind of explained why he'd been so desperate to leave, but why hadn't he told her? He'd had plenty of opportunity to say something, but he hadn't so much as mentioned it. It was possible that he was only doing it because he didn't want her to worry, but she was his girlfriend; she was _supposed _to worry about him. Finding out like this had only given her more to stress out about, and this way she didn't even know where to send an owl to if she wanted to contact him. What was he trying to hide? As much as it pained her to think it, she was worried Sander might be at least partly right. Barty was up to something, but she didn't know how bad that something might be. Every time she tried to imagine the worst of him it never seemed to work; it was like her brain couldn't process it. He'd never been anything but perfectly nice to her. Well, maybe a bit abrupt with her on occasion, but that was just the way he was. He wasn't downright bad.

But yet Sander seemed to think there was something off about him, and if there was one thing she was sure of it was that Sander was wholly well intentioned. Damn it, why was it so difficult to know which of them to believe? It would be so much easier if the pair of them could just get on, but the animosity between them just seemed too strong for that. She suspected a large part of it was down to jealousy. Barty seemed to be jealous that Sander got so much of her attention at work, whereas Sander…well, she wasn't entirely sure what the deal was with Sander. Did he _like _her in that sense? It was hard to tell, what with him being the way he was. He could behave that way with every girl he met, for all she knew. At that thought she was surprised to find herself feeling a little jealous that maybe Sander treated other people the way he treated her. The relationship she had with him did seem special in a way, but it just wasn't the same as what she felt towards Barty.

And what _did _she feel towards Barty, exactly?

Oh, bugger. She really shouldn't be thinking about this, she needed to concentrate on work. It wasn't easy though, and she realised she was still distracted even when the knock fell on the door twenty minutes later. "Come in," she called out, glad of something else to take her mind off things, but she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as the door opened and she saw Martijn standing on the other side. She looked at him in puzzlement for a few seconds. "Did we forget something?"

He shook his head apologetically. "No, but I think we probably ought to talk. About Sander. Is it alright if I come in?"

"Oh," Gwen said, not really sure if she liked the sound of this, but she couldn't turn him away. "Um, sure. Take a seat."

Martijn came in and sat back down in the seat he'd occupied earlier. She watched him expectantly and he drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before beginning. "Look, I'm sorry if Sander's behaviour seems a bit…excessive. He's not really told me everything that happened, but I get the impression he's been interfering quite a lot. I know you're probably a little pissed off with him, but I promise you it's not malicious."

Gwen just stared at him, a little perplexed as to where all this had come from. The thought that they'd been discussing what had happened with each other made her a little uncomfortable. "I know he means well, but still," she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she looked at Martijn, "I do just wish he'd back off a little."

Martijn gave a sigh. "I get that he's probably sticking his nose in a bit more than you'd like, but the thing is he worries a lot. He worries about you."

Gwen looked at him earnestly. "Martijn, I honestly think that's really nice of him, but when it comes to Barty please tell him he doesn't have to worry. I'm fine." She wasn't exactly _fine, _but the thing was Sander seemed to be a large part of the problem. She needed him to stop interfering.

Martijn was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. "He's not told you, has he?"

Gwen was confused. "Told me what?"

"About what happened to our mum and sister."

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds. Sander hadn't told her that. He'd only ever mentioned their mother in passing and Gwen hadn't even realised they had a sister. She shook her head, intrigued. "No."

Martijn didn't respond straight away, looking as if he was choosing his words carefully. "Well, I think it might be about time you were made aware of it. We used to have a younger sister called Anneke."

Gwen was growing more uncomfortable, noting his use of the past tense, but she said nothing and allowed him to carry on.

"She had this friend, at Wievens – that's like Hogwarts in the Netherlands – called Robert de Koning," Martijn continued, looking a little uncomfortable about what he was about to tell her, "He and Anneke were really close; they'd known each other since they were twelve. Robert's dad, Henryk, worked at the Dutch Ministry as Chief Secretary of the Department of Secrecy. I always found Henryk's policies a bit too right-wing, to be honest, but Robert was a nice enough guy. Or at least that was the way it seemed at first. I liked him, San liked him, Mum and Dad liked him. But the thing is, Robert's dad had his eye set on becoming Secretary of State for Magic, and so did our uncle Arien. San may have told you about him; he got us the license to mine in Valkenburg aan de Geul. He had a pretty high standing in the Ministry himself: Chief Secretary of the International Affairs Office. The year Anneke was due to graduate was the same year the Secretary of State was supposed to retire. Henryk de Koning and Arien were both in the running to take up the position, but then there was, well…some people have said it was a smear campaign, but after what happened I wouldn't be surprised if there was any truth in it. The press reported Henryk de Koning had taken bribes from followers of You-Know-Who to overlook a breach of secrecy pertaining to muggle baiting in Rotterdam. Even Arien thought it was crazy. Henryk may have been conservative, but he wasn't a blood supremacist, or so we thought. Honestly, he and Robert were the last people you would ever have expected to be involved in dark magic. None of us believed it was true, but de Koning made out it was Arien who had orchestrated the smear campaign. The whole thing practically obliterated his chances of ever taking the post of Secretary of State and he tried to stir up a backlash.

"Arien started taking a lot of flak too that damaged his chances of getting the position, so he arranged a press conference to publicly deny all of the allegations against him. But it didn't exactly go smoothly. I'd just completed auror training and Sander was only half way through the course; we were both there to help out with the security but things kicked off. We managed to get everything under control eventually, but when we got back home afterwards it turned out the house had been raided while we were gone. It looked like de Koning had the support of the Death Eaters after all: they'd tried to get back at Arien by killing his sister, and it just so happened that Anneke was at home as well. Dad had been with us, but when we got back we found they'd both been killed.

"De Koning staunchly denied having anything to do with it, claiming that it was You-Know-Who's supporters who had been acting in his name. He tried to say they were militant extremists and he had no affiliation with them whatsoever, but none of us believed him. Or at least we didn't believe him until he ended up dead, the day after publicly disowning the Death Eater cause. And in the meantime his son had disappeared. Some people thought the Death Eaters must have organised the whole thing and killed the Department Secretary and his son, but that never made sense. Most people didn't get to see what had happened to Mum and Anneke. Whoever had come to the house that night and killed them had been let in willingly. They knew whoever it was, they trusted him, and it didn't look like they'd put up a fight until they realised what was happening at the very last minute. And there was never any reason for the Death Eaters to go after Henryk's son. Politically, they would have had more to gain by letting him live. It had to have been Robert who did it.

"None of us saw it coming. We couldn't possibly have known the truth about him; looking back I can't think of anything that might have led us to work it out. But San still thinks we should have done. He's still convinced that if we'd been able to work it out sooner we could have stopped it, but there's no way we could have known. And that's what I think this is with you, Gwen. He's terrified of anything like that happening again, and with you it may be that he's just latching onto anything he sees as a threat and making it into something worse than it is. I know you could probably do without him sticking his nose in so much, but he's only doing this because he cares about you, Gwen."

Once Martijn had finished Gwen simply sat staring at him for a few moments. She'd been completely captivated by the whole explanation, listening in silently to the whole story. She'd had no idea. Sander had never so much as mentioned any of that, and she felt a sudden rush of protectiveness towards him. Everything suddenly made sense, and she felt rather bad about the way she'd treated him. Why hadn't he told her? _The same reason Barty didn't tell me he'd moved out, _she thought. "I had no idea," she said, staring at Martijn in shock. "He never told me that."

"Well, he doesn't really like talking about it much," Martijn responded, still looking rather sombre as if he didn't much like discussing it himself, "But I thought that since it seems to be affecting you, perhaps you ought to know. I'm not entirely sure why he's so suspicious of Barty, he's probably drawing parallels where there are none, but try not to get too angry with him over it. I'll tell him to tone it down a bit, but the thing is he cares about you a lot, Gwen."

Gwen looked at him. "I know," she said quietly. _Oh, Sander. Why didn't you just tell me? _She was touched by his concern for her, but finding all this out now only complicated things even further. There was more she wanted to ask about Sander being in auror training and what happened to Arien, but Martijn had stood up and seemed to be ready to leave again._  
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"Well, now you know what happened," he said with a brief nod of his head, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go again. I told San I was going back to work. They won't miss me too much if I'm not gone very long, but we've just found Pettigrew's finger and there's going to be a lot of paperwork to fill in regarding what happened to the rest of him."

Gwen grimaced. She wasn't entirely sure who Pettigrew was, but that sounded nasty. "A finger?"

He noticed the squeamish look on her face and gave an uneasy smile. "Try not to think about it," he said, "And, um, don't tell Sander I told you. Not yet, at any rate. I don't mean keep it secret, but just wait for me to have a word with him, if that's alright."

She nodded, still slightly in shock at his revelation. "Of course."

"Alright, well I'll see you later, Gwen," he said, offering her a brief handshake before leaving the office.

"Um, see you, Martijn," she said as she watched the door close behind him. So that was why Sander was acting the way he was. Overprotectiveness.

_Or was it though?_

Even though what Martijn had just told her explained Sander's behaviour in many ways, she still couldn't quite shake the sense of unease she felt. Barty had set the auroscope off more than once. He'd given her an explanation for it, but was it any more valid than Henryk de Koning denying his involvement with the Death Eaters? _But _had _de Koning actually been involved with the Death Eaters? _she wondered. He may have ended up dead, but was that because he'd always been an enemy or was he just no longer useful to them?

Wait, no. She shouldn't be thinking about this in the context of Barty. She didn't care what Martijn told her about Robert de Koning, Barty wasn't like that. He'd always been lovely to her (or lovely in his own strange little way) and she thought she knew him well enough to know he wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't kill somebody.

_Is that what Anneke thought about Robert?_

Dammit, she didn't want to be thinking like this. It wasn't fair. Barty may have his moments of being a complete git but he wasn't like that. If she was seriously considering these things about him then she wasn't exactly much of a girlfriend. She was supposed to trust him.

But despite telling herself that the doubts continued to plague her. She managed to keep herself distracted for most of the rest of the day, but the moment she finished her shift and headed down to the floo grates in the foyer everything she'd found out flooded into her head again. She had no idea what to think, and was desperately trying to make sense of it.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn't even notice the footsteps that were following her across the marble floor, and was taken completely by surprise when somebody grabbed her from behind.


	26. Chapter 26

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Six**

The thrill still hadn't worn off. Even this long afterwards he still felt the buzz as he remembered it. The satisfaction of turning to Bellatrix and seeing her manic look of delight, of seeing Rodolphus watching him with an expression of surprise but still looking a little impressed. "You didn't think I'd do it, did you?" Barty had taunted him.

The steely look Rodolphus had given in response suggested he didn't, but done it Barty had.

And more than that, he'd _enjoyed _it.

The doubts he'd felt beforehand had immediately melted away the moment he'd raised the wand and looked into Laura's eyes. He was about to kill her. It wasn't so much the thought of _that _that thrilled him, but it was more how he enjoyed the sense of having so much power over her. Her life was in his hands, and he could take it with just two words. Now _that _was powerful. In that moment he had more power than anyone else in the world. More power even than his father, who had the authority to sentence people to life in Azkaban. He had the power of life and death.

As he'd uttered the curse and seen her fall motionless to the floor the surge of adrenaline had kicked in. He felt invincible. This was what it was like to kill.

He'd lain awake in bed for hours that night, unable to get his mind to switch off, constantly replaying that moment in his head. He'd enjoyed it at first, loved recalling the instant in which he'd finally proved himself to Bellatrix and showed just what he was worth. But the more he repeated it the more disturbing it got. All the different thoughts swirling around his mind were colliding together, making him imagine things he really didn't want to think about.

_Laura looking at him with that pleading look in her eyes. He was about to kill her…but then somehow her face became Gwen's and he realised he couldn't do it. _

"_Barty…" she was calling out to him, like she had the last time he'd seen her. "Please."_

_Please what? Please come back or please don't kill me? _

"_Barty!" she screamed his name again. Her voice seemed to resonate through his mind. She didn't want him to do this, but it was what Bella had asked._

"_Barty." It wasn't her anymore. Somebody else was speaking now. A voice that was cold and hard and desperate. "Barty Crouch Junior."_

_Karkaroff. Karkaroff had turned him in. He felt hands closing round his wrists and clamping them in irons, dragging him away into darkness. An icy chill settled on him and he realised it was the dementors. He could still see Gwen's face, but it was so distant now. She was turning away from him. "Gwen, please!" he shouted out to her, but she'd already disappeared._

_Someone was still screaming, but this time he realised it was himself. They'd found out the truth and they'd come for him. "Please, no!" He couldn't go to Azkaban. He couldn't. "I didn't do it! I didn't kill her!"_

Liar.

"_Don't…please!"_

_But nobody was listening. Everything had gone dark now. Dark and cold. There were chains around his arms and legs, making it impossible to move. His eyes darted around from left to right, trying to make out any shapes through the blackness, but he could see nothing._

Don't let them have left me on my own…

_An icy coldness was gripping him, seeming to come from all around. He could feel it soaking through his skin, penetrating deep inside him. And still he was alone. They'd left him to rot here._

No…

_But then he saw it. From nowhere the face appeared in front of him. That hideous face, with its necrotic flesh and gaping mouth, leering at him through the darkness. The dementor had come for him._

"_NO!"_

His eyes had snapped open to find he was lying in an old four-poster bed in the spare room of the Lestranges' house. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin and he was breathing heavily, and he realised he was tangled up the bedsheets. That was why he hadn't felt able to move. He desperately threw the sheets off him and lay staring up at the canopy for a few moments, trying to calm down.

Even as he realised it was only a dream the panic still didn't abate. What if they did find out? What if Karkaroff told them? _Then they'll know you're loyal to this cause, _he told himself. _You have to see this through. Don't be like Regulus. Don't lose your nerve._

It took a while, but eventually his breathing and his heart rate returned to normal and he lay in the bed motionless with his eyes shut. His mind started to wander again, but he had no intention of letting himself fall back to sleep. He was thinking of Gwen.

He must have hurt her, with the way he'd walked out the last time he'd seen her. Yes, he'd been angry, but it wasn't her fault. He needed to do something to make it up to her. He needed something to focus on, to keep him distracted from everything else that was troubling him, and he thought he had an idea of what to do.

The thought of seeing her again had been what kept him sane through the next couple of days at work. Everybody had realised Laura was missing. Scores of people had gone missing in the past few months, but when it was one of their own department staff everybody got a little more bothered by it than usual. They all wanted to know what had happened to her, but really she was just another name on the list. They were just as unlikely to ever find out what had happened to her as they were anybody else. It gave him a smug sense of satisfaction that he knew what had happened and the rest of them didn't - that in fact _he _had been the one to kill her - but he couldn't let on to them what he was really feeling. Barty hadn't found it hard to pretend to be just as worried as the others, but really he was worrying about something else entirely.

With Karkaroff's hearing pending and knowing there was nothing he could do to influence what the Death Eater may or may not say he was feeling a sense of helpless frustration. The Death Eaters never knew the identities of all of the others for this exact reason: to prevent traitors from handing each other in. But Karkaroff had known about him. They'd only met once, very briefly at a meeting and Karkaroff had been arrested very shortly after, but it was enough for him to know Barty was involved. Even without any evidence Karkaroff might still choose to say something and there'd be bugger all Barty could do about it.

But he was trying not to let himself think about that. Instead, he was focussing on Gwen. The work day had finally ended and now he was going to get to go and see her as planned. He thought he perhaps could have sent an owl beforehand, but that would have ruined the surprise.

He'd just entered the foyer of Gringotts to see her heading to the fireplaces to go home. She hadn't noticed him as she was crossing the floor, and a small smile played on his lips as he walked up behind her and suddenly put an arm around her waist.

She jumped and spun round, seeming to be about to push him away, but then she realised who it was. A combined look of relief and confusion spread across her face. "Barty? What are you doing here?"

He smirked at her. "Hey, we've both technically finished work so no-one can get mad."

She stared up at him, still looking a little uneasy. "So, you're not still angry with me?"

He stopped smirking and looked at her earnestly. "Of course not. It was him I was mad at, not you. Sorry you took all the shit for it."

"Oh," she said, glancing down at the floor and then back up at him. She still seemed a little put out, and that worried him somewhat. "No, Barty, it's fine," Gwen continued, "It's just that, well, I found out you moved out. Why didn't you tell me?"

He stiffened a little as he met her gaze. He hadn't wanted her to find out about that, lest she started wanting to visit him where he was living now. "How do you know about that?" The question came out sounding rather cold and hostile, and he immediately regretted having used that tone.

She looked at the floor again. "Well, please don't take this the wrong way, but my dad told me about the conversation he had with your dad and what they'd been saying about you. It's not like I'm discussing you with him behind your back or anything, but it's just that I'm worried about you."

He gave a sigh of frustration. "That's _exactly _why I didn't tell you. I don't want you to worry."

She still looked uneasy. "But Barty, how can I _not _worry about you over something…"

"Hey," he said to cut her off, "I'm fine, I promise. And I feel really bad about the way I treated you the other night so I wanted to make it up to you." He reached into the inside pocket of his robes and she watched him curiously, and then he produced two rectangular slips of paper. "Two tickets to _L'Imperatrice _at the Ourea in Mayfair," he said with a grin, "I know I had to cancel on you last time, so I thought you might like to go to this one instead."

She just stared at him for a few moments, seemingly completely astonished, and then smiled. "_You _actually want to see _L'Imperatrice_?"

He nodded. "Of course, if you want to. It's supposed to even better than _Les Mysteres._"

She gave him an amused smile. "Who told you that?"

He put on a slightly offended look once she'd said that. This hadn't been the kind of reaction he'd been expecting. "Nobody. Why? Don't you like it?"

"Oh no, it's not that," she said, looking a little mortified that she might have upset him, "Musically, it's probably the best Mickelwal's ever done. I've just never been too keen on the story though. It seems a bit…well, politically right-wing for no real reason."

He frowned, not really understanding her. "In what way?"

She shrugged, "Well, there's never really any explanation for Hecate's attitude towards the muggle Emperor, despite the fact the Roman oppression of magic had ended with Constantine the Great over half a century earlier. Her actions seem to be completely motivated by a sense of…" she suddenly stopped as she noticed his utterly perplexed expression and gave a small laugh. "You have absolutely no idea what it's about, do you?"

He gave her an indignant look. "Well, I know it's about the fall of the Roman Empire in the fourth century and, um…" he trailed off and looked a little embarrassed, "Yeah, that's about it."

She didn't seem too bothered by his admission, and instead grinned brightly at him. "In that case, we _have _to go and see it. Can't have you being completely clueless about one of the most famous stories in magical mythology."

He smiled back. "Great. So I'll see you on Saturday then? I could pick you up at about seven o'clock."

"Alright, sounds great. I, um…" she gestured vaguely to the fireplace behind her, "I was about to head off home now, actually. You could come with me, if you like."

His smile faltered a little once she'd said that. It was tempting – _incredibly _tempting – to go with her, but he didn't think Bellatrix would be too happy if he disappeared without warning again. "Um, sorry, Gwen, but not tonight. I've got things I need to sort out."

"Oh," she said, looking more than a little disappointed and he quickly tried to cheer her up again.

"But it's not that long before Saturday though. And might I just suggest you pack an overnight bag as well."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

He grinned. "You know, just in case. We'll see what happens."

He was pleased to see she was smiling at him again. "Alright, Saturday then," she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss goodbye. "I'll see you later, Barty."

"See you," he said as she took a pinch of floo powder from the pot on the hearth and walked into the fireplace. She was about to drop the powder into the grate when he called out to her again. "And Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"Wear something nice."

The last thing he saw was her blush furiously, before she called out her address and disappeared in a swirl of green flame.


	27. Chapter 27

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Seven**

When Barty called round to pick Gwen up on Saturday evening it was Christine who answered the door. He couldn't help but be somewhat irritated by that, having hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with Gwen's parents at all, but since she still lived at home he knew that wouldn't be possible. Christine had seemed incredibly enthusiastic about their date and had welcomed him into the house, sitting him down in the living room while she went to check on Gwen, who was still getting ready.

Once she'd left the room Barty perched himself awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, unable to really relax. There were still so many thoughts and emotions running round his head, and he was finding it difficult to ignore the worst ones so that he'd be able to enjoy this evening. Yes, he _wanted _to enjoy it. He'd been looking forward to this for three days, but in the back of his mind there was still the worry about what might happen with Karkaroff. Or what might happen if Bella and Rod didn't buy the excuse he'd given them for where he would be tonight. Or what if he never managed to fulfil the task Rookwood had given him about Gringotts. There was just so much to worry about.

Being sat here like this didn't help put him at ease. All the time he spent waiting for Gwen just made him even more nervous about what she would think when she finally saw him. The black tuxedo with bow tie he had on was normally reserved for his father's formal dinner parties, and he really wasn't used to wearing it. It felt alien on him, as if it was meant for somebody else and by wearing it he was trying to pretend to be something he wasn't. He couldn't help but give an ironic smile as he realised that in reality that was _exactly _what he'd been doing for over a year. But that still didn't stop him feeling awkward.

He cast his gaze around the room to try and find something interesting to look at to pass the time. As his eyes wandered over the various tables and surfaces covered with piles of books, letters, rolls of parchment and other pieces of clutter, he found himself wondering why the Coulthards didn't have a house elf. He could understand why everything was so disorganised when they were all so busy with work, but if they had an elf then they wouldn't have this problem. That was something he'd been wondering last time he was here too, but hadn't had chance to ask Gwen about it before Westerbeck had showed up.

As he let his gaze wander further round the room he noticed a black leather briefcase laying on top of a cabinet by the window. At first he thought it might be Gwen's, but then he remembered that he'd seen Gwen's briefcase several times and realised that wasn't it. It must be her father's. And John was one of Gringotts senior executives, wasn't he?

Barty was remembering the task Rookwood had given him just a couple of weeks ago, to find out more about Gringotts so they could come up with a plan to infiltrate it. He'd been neglecting that task somewhat up until now, what with other things getting in the way, but now the ideal opportunity had presented itself. If he could just get hold of some of the documents in that briefcase then that would surely be useful to the Death Eaters. The briefcase was only a few short steps away; it would take him less than thirty seconds to get to it and take out just a couple of the pieces of parchment inside.

But still he was hesitant to do it. He hadn't seen Gwen's father yet and he knew John could appear at any minute. But if he did this then that would be one less thing to worry about. He would have done something to help the Death Eaters _and_ he'd have something to show Bella later to reinforce the excuse he'd given her for his absence. She thought he was away doing work for Rookwood at the Ministry this evening, and if he got hold of those documents she'd have less reason to doubt him.

_But what if John _did _walk in? _

_No, stop being a coward, _he told himself. _The longer you sit here worrying about it the more likely he is to show up. Just get on and do it._

He quickly stood up and made the short walk over to the cabinet, where he undid the clasp on the briefcase, opened it and pointed his wand at the papers inside. "_Geminio," _he muttered, and the sheets on top of the pile glowed white for a moment before splitting in two as they replicated. He quickly snatched up the copies, folded them, and then shoved them roughly into the inside pocket of his jacket. Realising they didn't fit properly, he quickly cast an expansion charm on his pocket to accommodate them before turning his attention back to the other documents. He was about to do the same to the papers at the bottom of the pile, but then he thought he heard footsteps approaching the living room, and he abruptly shut the case and darted back to the sofa where Christine had left him.

Just as he sat down he heard a voice speak from the doorway behind him. "Good evening, Barty."

"Good evening, Mr Coulthard," he replied as he stood up again and turned around, trying to act as casually as possible.

John smiled at him, but Barty couldn't help but think his expression seemed rather cool. "Please, call me John. I know we haven't spoken very often, but since you're on first name terms with my wife and daughter I don't see that there's any need for us to be quite so formal."

Barty really didn't feel comfortable calling him that. He was very aware that John Coulthard regularly spoke with his father, and Barty felt the need to be very guarded around him. But still, he thought he perhaps ought to make the effort to try and be friendly, for Gwen's sake. "Of course, John."

John was still smiling, but Barty could detect the faintest trace of hostility in his expression. _Does he know about the argument I had with Gwen? _Barty wondered.

"Do sit down, Barty, there's no need to keep standing," John said, gesturing to the sofa, and Barty stiffly sat down again while John took a seat in the chair opposite him. "So, you're into opera, are you?" John asked conversationally, "Take after your father, I suppose. He tells me he's quite fond of Mickelwal himself."

Barty scowled, then immediately tried to hide his displeasure. It irritated him that John was trying to compare him to his father, but he was determined to try and get along with him. "I'm not particularly," Barty replied, "I just know that Gwen likes it."

The coolness in John's expression seemed to abate then, and he appeared quite pleased that Barty was doing something he had no interest in for Gwen's sake. "You're right there, she does," he said warmly, "Never been too keen on it myself. Christine has more of a taste for that kind of thing than I do, but Gwen likes it much more than both of us combined."

It surprised Barty somewhat that neither John nor Christine had a particular interest in opera, and he started to wonder where Gwen got it from. Just as he was about to ask John about it he suddenly heard the sound of someone coming downstairs, and he turned in his seat again to see Christine enter the room.

"Here she is," Christine announced, and Barty stood upon once again and licked his lips nervously as Gwen walked through the doorway.

As his gaze fell on her he was speechless for a few seconds. She looked stunning. She was wearing a red cocktail dress that came to just above her knees, and hugged her figure in such a way to create the illusion of curves in just the right places. It must be brand new, he realised, because there was no way in hell that had been in her wardrobe before now. He'd told her to wear something nice, and she most definitely seemed to have listened to him. To match the dress she held a small red clutch bag in her left hand, which he realised must have been magically expanded to hold all her things. Her brown hair was neatly pinned up with just a couple of loose ringlets that framed her face, and on her feet she was wearing red shoes with three inch heels; the highest he'd ever seen her in. For once, she appeared to have made a real effort when it came to her appearance. She was wearing just enough make up to hide her freckles and even out her complexion, and the smoky eyeshadow she was wearing made her steel grey eyes seem wide and enticing. The overall effect was beautiful.

He smiled at her. "You look wonderful," he said sincerely, absolutely meaning it. The foundation on her cheeks wasn't quite enough to hide the redness of them as she started to blush, and she glanced down at the floor. Even though she looked like a much more glamorous version of Gwen, she was still behaving just as shyly as ever. If anything, she seemed even more awkward now that she was dressed this way and so far out of her comfort zone.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "So do you."

He smirked, thinking it was supposedly his turn to feel self-conscious now, but as he conjured up a mental image of the pair of them together he thought that actually they looked great. "So, are you ready?" he said, offering her his arm. She took a few stiff steps forward, clearly unused to the shoes, and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Ready when you are," she said, still blushing.

He had the tickets in his pocket, which allowed him to get through the selective anti-apparition charm on the theatre. The charm was enforced to prevent people from getting in without paying, but that wasn't going to be a problem for them. Barty glanced at John and Christine one last time as he was preparing to disapparate, and noticed John was looking at him.

"So," John said, his tone now quite stern as he addressed Barty, "When will you be bringing her back?"

"Some time tomorrow morning, if that's alright," Barty said casually, and glanced at Gwen to see that his reply had caused her face to turn even redder and she was resolutely staring at the floor.

John raised an eyebrow at him and then spoke to his daughter. "So it looks like you're going to get to see where he's living now, Gwen."

_Like hell, _Barty thought, but he knew he couldn't say it aloud. He watched Gwen look up at her parents and she was about to say something, but then Barty commented, "Yeah, something like that." It was easier to lie if he was as vague as possible.

He glanced from John over to Christine, who was smiling widely. "Oh, I hope you have a great time!" Christine gushed, and Barty thought he hadn't seen her quite so enthusiastic about anything in months. She may come across as being permanently exhausted at work, but she still had enough energy to be really pleased for her daughter. Barty felt a slight pang as he wished his own parents were more like that, but then he quickly brushed it off and turned to smile at Gwen.

Gwen looked at her mother and muttered, "We will do, Mum," before fixing her attention on Barty and returning his smile. "Alright. Are we going to go then?"

"Alright," he replied, and then looked at her parents one last time. "Right, so I'll see you both tomorrow, I expect," he said, and waited for Gwen to say goodbye to them before he took hold of her arm and disapparated with her.

**A/N: I had originally intended for this chapter to be a lot longer, but if I try writing the part with them at the theatre now you'll be waiting ages for an update, so I wanted to upload what I've got done for now. I'm going to be a bit busy over the next couple of days so I'm not too sure when the next update will be, but I'll try and make it as soon as possible. I'm going out in to an Iron Maiden concert in two hours and I am literally so excited I can't sit still, but I wanted to leave you with something before I have to go. Thanks very much to everyone who's reviewed, I probably don't thank you often enough but I'm always really grateful for it.**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: So, so sorry for leaving you this long without an update. I really try and update at least once a week, but I've been rather busy with other stuff and not had much time for writing, which has been rather frustrating for me because it's one of my favourite things in the world to do. However, I did manage to get this chapter done eventually, and I'll try and get the next update done more quickly.**

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Inside the theatre they found their way to their seats, which were situated high up on the third row of the circle. They didn't have the best view in the theatre, but it was pretty decent to say Barty had bought the tickets so last minute. As they sat down Gwen turned to give Barty a smile, which he only returned half-heartedly. He _did _want to be here, but he was still distracted worrying about Karkaroff. He knew it was pointless to let it get to him – there was nothing he could do about it so he may as well just try and relax and enjoy the evening – but it didn't change the fact that it was always there in the back of his mind, even when he was trying to concentrate on something else. Damn it, why was it so difficult to stop worrying? He'd brought Gwen here this evening because he wanted her to enjoy herself, and she seemed quite pleased to be here so far, so why couldn't he just be happy with that?

Gwen had noticed his troubled expression and looked at him in concern. "Barty? Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Of course," he answered, perhaps a little too quickly to sound sincere, so quickly followed it up with a question, "I was just wondering, um…so, what exactly _is _this about?"

She smiled and gave a small shake of her head as she interpreted that to mean he was worried about not understanding it. "Well, basically it's about a Byzantine witch in the fourth century who attempts to overthrow the muggle Roman Emperor."

"And I take it she succeeds, right?" Barty said, trying to recall what he knew of magical history despite not having done the subject since the third year of Hogwarts.

Gwen shrugged, "Well, historically this _was _the point at which the Roman Empire started to decline, but the story's just a legend. It probably wasn't _really _magic that brought down the Empire, it's just that Mickelwal seems to be exaggerating Hecate's role in the fall of Valens to try and appeal to a wizarding audience. I suppose that was the typical attitude in the eighteenth century though – practically every composer or playwright from that time would try and glorify wizards while playing down the role of muggles."

Barty noticed the disapproving tone in which she'd said it and gave a slight frown. He couldn't understand why she had a problem with that. To him, it made complete sense for wizards to be portrayed as superior. Anything else would just be…well, wrong. "And you don't like that?"

"Well…" she said thoughtfully, "I don't suppose I mind, if you take it in the context of when it was written and all, but even in contemporary stuff muggles get a bit of a bad rap. I think a lot of wizards with no experience or knowledge of muggles really don't appreciate them as much as they deserve."

Barty just stared at her in surprise for a few seconds. She couldn't _seriously _be a muggle sympathiser, could she? He knew she'd taken muggle studies at school, but he'd assumed that had been because working at Gringotts meant having to deal with muggle currency. Now he was wondering if she'd taken it out of genuine interest rather than just as a career move, although he couldn't understand what she could possibly find so interesting about a bunch of people who not only couldn't use magic, but were ignorant and hostile towards it. "What does that mean?" he asked, sounding a little sceptical.

She sighed, seeming apologetic. "Sorry, I'm forgetting. You're pureblood, aren't you?"

That question confused him even more. "Aren't you?"

Gwen shook her head. "No, my granddad's a muggle."

"Oh." That took him by surprise. It had never occurred to him that she wasn't a pureblood when her family had such a solid reputation in the wizarding community. "On Christine's side, right?"

She shook her head again. "No, Dad's."

"Really?" That came as an even bigger shock to him. He couldn't quite believe that John Coulthard, one of the wizarding world's most successful bankers and in charge of Gringotts' investment department, actually had a muggle father. But then he remembered that the Dark Lord himself was also the son of a muggle, and he thought that if a wizard had high aspirations then perhaps being a half-blood wasn't necessarily a drawback.

Gwen nodded in response, looking a little puzzled at his astonishment. "Yes, really. Why is that so hard to believe?"

He shrugged. "It was just unexpected, that's all," he said, hoping he hadn't offended her. "But don't worry, it's not your fault."

Once he'd said that she openly glared at him, and he realised he must have said the wrong thing. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she said coolly.

He quickly tried to think of what he could say to explain himself. He hadn't meant to upset her, but this revelation that she seemed to like muggles had thrown him out a bit. Most likely her attitude towards muggles was down to her grandfather, but he hoped he was going to be able to talk her round. The part of him that normally scorned muggle-lovers was being overruled by the part that cared about Gwen, and he didn't want their relationship to be spoiled just because she had some stupid ideas. "Well, you can't help who your grandparents are, can you? I suppose you must find it frustrating that your grandfather doesn't fit in with the wizarding world, but it's not like you can do anything to change that."

She still eyed him coolly for a couple of seconds, but then seemed to decide he hadn't meant any offense. "Actually, I've never met him," she said, not sounding quite so hostile now, "He died in the war."

Once again, she'd said something that surprised him. "The Second World War?" he asked with a note of incredulity in his voice. Even though the war had been fought primarily between muggles the wizarding community had been affected by it. Barty knew enough about history to be aware of it, but it still surprised him to think that Gwen's grandfather had been directly involved.

Gwen nodded.

"How?" Barty asked, still too surprised to articulate a proper sentence.

"The D-Day landings," Gwen replied. "You do know what they are, right?"

He glanced at the floor a little awkwardly. He'd heard of them, but he wasn't sure what they were.

Gwen gave a sigh, realising he had no clue. "Basically, he died while landing on a beach to liberate France from a fascist dictator. Wizard or not, anybody who gives their life for something like that deserves respect."

Barty felt immensely uncomfortable once she'd said that. Despite his contempt for muggles in general, he couldn't help but agree that anyone who died for a cause they believed in deserved respect. If it ever came to it he hoped he'd be brave enough to do something like that for the Dark Lord, but that didn't change the fact that if Gwen's grandfather had been able to use magic he probably wouldn't have died in the first place. "Well, maybe so," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "But don't you think that if you _had_ known him then him being a muggle would have been difficult for you? You'd be able to do all this magical stuff, whereas he'd be so limited. There's a reason muggles and wizards don't go together."

Gwen sighed again. "Oh, Barty," she said, sounding disappointed, "I wish you'd taken muggles studies, then you'd be able to understand better. Muggles and wizards _could _go together if wizards could just get over their scepticism and muggles got over their ignorance."

Barty found himself wishing Gwen _hadn't _taken muggle studies, then _she'd _be able to understand. What exactly had she picked up from that class to make her think this way? "But wizards have superior abilities to muggles in every way possible. Muggles use brooms for cleaning, we use them to fly. Kind of says it all really, doesn't it?"

Gwen just shook her head. "Any wizard can use magic to fly," she said, trying to reason with him, "It's when you manage to get something to fly _without _magic that it's really impressive."

He scowled at her. "You mean like a muggle airyplane? Not exactly discreet or efficient are they?"

She just gave a small smile, as if she knew something that he didn't. "What's the top speed of a Nimbus 800? Ninety miles per hour?" she asked rhetorically, "The fastest muggle plane can travel faster than the speed of sound. Now even _with_ magic that would be a pretty incredible achievement."

For a couple of seconds he just stared at her. Now _that _was something he hadn't known. And yes, reluctant as he was to admit it, that was bloody impressive. "Oh," was all he managed to say.

She smiled at him, pleased that he seemed to have conceded to her way of thinking. "See what I mean? You find out some interesting stuff in muggle studies."

"So I see," he said, scowling slightly as he realised that she had undoubtedly won that argument, but then he realised he didn't want that to put a damper on the evening and so smiled again. "Anyway," he said, leaning towards her to whisper the next sentence in her ear. It wasn't so much because he didn't want to be overheard, but more that he just liked being physically close to her. "One thing I'm still not sure about, where exactly _is _Byzantium?"

He watched a small smile play on her lips as she tried to decide if he genuinely didn't know, or if he just thought that by feigning ignorance he was being endearing. "In the country now known as Turkey," she replied, "But you did know that, didn't you?"

He smirked. "Yes, but I just wanted to make sure. Didn't want to sit through this having got the wrong end of the stick entirely."

She gave a small shake of her head. "Why in Merlin's name didn't you buy a programme? Then you wouldn't have to be asking me all this."

"Ah," was his only response to that. He'd been so distracted worrying about other things when they'd walked in that it hadn't occurred to him. "Well, maybe I'll go get one now," he said, beginning to get up, but just as he did so the lights in the auditorium began to dim and the audience hushed. "Ok, maybe not," he muttered as he sat back down. He saw Gwen smile at him one final time before she turned her attention to the stage and the orchestra struck up the first few notes.

**A/N: The next chapter's going to have more romance in it. The idea for this one is that maybe Gwen begins to get an idea of Barty's anti-muggle attitude, but she doesn't quite realise how extreme it is yet. He's still trying to hide it from her, but he's a bit taken aback by how pro-muggle she is. I'm going to explore that more later on in the story, but I want to write more of the romance I promised you next time. Thanks again everybody for the reviews!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: I think my T rating has become much more questionable after writing this, so I'm putting it up to M just to be on the safe side. The next chapter's likely to be worse.**

**Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Barty was trying to pay attention to it. Honestly, he was, for the first thirty minutes or so at least, but he wasn't finding it easy. His mind kept wandering to other things, and it didn't help that he couldn't understand one iota of what was going on. He could barely make out any of the words, but what he could make out he realised was in French, and he wasn't exactly finding the music enjoyable either. He had to admit that the singers had some talent to be able to perform like that, but there was only so much of a soprano wail he could take before the sound became incredibly monotonous.

It wasn't just the music that was the problem; everything else about it failed to enthral him too. Sure, it was visually impressive: the costumes were lavish, the chorus dancers were extravagant and the production company hadn't held back when it came to magical effects, but that didn't stop Barty growing increasingly bored of it. The longer he watched it the more he found he really wasn't concentrating on the performance at all, and instead he kept glancing over to his right to look at Gwen.

She hadn't noticed him looking at her, too engrossed as she was in the opera, and Barty found he quite liked that. He had a nice view of her from the side. The auditorium was dark, but he could make out the outline of her face: the smooth curve of where her forehead joined the straight, elegant line of her nose; the shape of her lips, full and soft and parted ever so slightly. _Very kissable, _he thought, and he felt very tempted to lean across and kiss her right then if it wouldn't be so immensely inappropriate.

He continued to watch her as the orchestra changed key, and as the lead tenor began the next aria he found the soft tone of the music rather romantic. He wanted Gwen to glance over at him then, just to realise that he'd been looking at her, and then she'd no doubt blush and he'd get to see the hint of red appear beneath her pale cheeks, and could imagine how hot her skin would be to touch.

But she didn't look at him, and so he simply let his gaze wander over her even more, finding her much more enticing to look at than anything happening on the stage below. She had her hair pinned up in such a way to expose her neck, and he let his gaze drift down over the pale column of flesh, thinking how smooth and soft it seemed, and how much he wanted to run his tongue over it right now…

A wicked smile played on his lips as he tried to imagine what she'd think if she knew what thoughts were running through his mind. He knew this wasn't the kind of thing he was supposed to be thinking about while watching an opera, but _damn _it was so much more enjoyable than the boring, pretentious drivel everyone else was concentrating on. But the problem was having to sit here and not be able to do anything. He could look at her, but he couldn't make a move to get any kind of reaction out of her until this was over, and he found that frustrating.

When the curtains finally descended on the first act Barty couldn't help but feel immensely thankful, but then he remembered they still had a whole other act to sit through in twenty minutes and he inwardly groaned to himself. Conversely, Gwen seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it, and as the lights flashed to signify the beginning of the interval and people around them started getting up she turned to him with a smile. "So, enjoying it so far?" she asked brightly, not having had time to register the scowl on his face.

"Well, I can't understand it, can I?" he said irritably, "It's all in French."

She seemed a little amused by that, "Well, yes," she agreed, "But it's not like you have to speak the language to understand the story. I thought you _did _speak French though?"

He looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well…" she began, blushing slightly as she realised she must have been wrong. "It's just that with your father speaking over a hundred languages I assumed you must know a couple of the more obvious ones."

Barty gave a derisive snort. "Yeah, right. Like he ever had time to teach me any of that," he scoffed.

"Oh," Gwen responded quietly, looking a little embarrassed, and Barty realised his tone must have come across as being a bit harsh.

"Oh, it's not a problem though," he said, quickly trying to return to speaking casually, "I'm quite glad I never did learn to speak French. It's a ridiculous language; makes everything you say sound pretentious and poncey."

"Barty!" Gwen hissed, seemingly shocked by that statement, and then she glanced around them as if worried they might be overheard. Most of the people sat around them had gotten up, either to get a drink or use the restrooms, but Gwen still looked a little nervous. "You can't say stuff like that," she berated him, "It's an opera in French. There might be French people here tonight, for all we know."

Barty just smirked. "And?" Gwen shot him a glare, and his smirk turned into a scowl. "Oh, alright," he said huffily, "But what does a German composer write all his operas in French for anyway?"

"Mickelwal was Swiss," Gwen pointed out, and Barty's scowl deepened even further.

He was finding this whole experience rather annoying, to be honest, but Gwen had been enjoying the performance at least, and that was the only reason he'd come in the first place. He tried to lighten his expression, but he was finding it difficult to hide just how irritated he was. "Fine, fair enough. At least French isn't as bad as Dutch. Every other word in that language sounds like you're trying to simultaneously spit and snort."

Once he'd said that Gwen just glared at him for a few more seconds, trying to decide if he'd said that to deliberately annoy her, and then she turned away from him and went back to staring towards the stage without saying a word.

Barty immediately realised he'd said the wrong thing, and he cursed himself for being unable to judge when to make a joke with her. If he was honest with himself, he _had _said it just because he wanted any excuse to have a go at Sander Westerbeck, however indirectly, but he hadn't been trying to be malicious. Despite that, he could still see why Gwen might be upset that he'd brought it up at all. He was kicking himself for saying it: it was a really stupid thing to say on a date with her when he knew full well how she might take it. "Oh, come on Gwen," he said, not quite taking it back but trying to make it seem like less of a big deal, "It's not like I said anything against _him _directly, is it? I was just making an observation."

"Well, there was no need for it," she said coolly, still not looking at him.

"But I'm not exactly wrong, am I?" he huffed, "I'm pretty sure a lot of other people think that too."

"Yes, well _I _don't," Gwen responded, and Barty began to realise just how much he'd upset her. She seemed to really have taken it as a personal affront on Sander, even though Barty had genuinely only intended it as an offhand comment.

He leant in closer to her and gave her an apologetic smile, and even though she was still trying to look annoyed she did allow herself to stop resolutely staring straight in front of her and look at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he muttered quietly to her, "I just spoke without thinking, that's all. I'll make it up to you."

Her irritated expression remained fixed in place for a few more seconds, but then she seemed to relax slightly and the corners of her mouth turned up in small smile. "Oh alright. I suppose I could have taken that the wrong way."

He grinned at her, pleased that she hadn't stayed mad with him for wrong. The whole point of this evening was that he wanted to make up with her, and after having sat through over an hour of something so completely tedious he now felt like he wanted to do something more productive. "You know what? Let's just forget about it. Now, come on," he said, suddenly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her seat.

Gwen looked completely surprised and confused, but seemed happy to go along with it. "Why? Where are we going?" she asked.

"I just thought we should do something a bit more enjoyable before the next act starts," he said with a mischievous grin as he dragged her in the direction of the theatre bar.

They headed back out through the doors to the auditorium to find themselves in the bar on the upper floor, where quite a few people were stood buying drinks or programmes. Barty was pulling Gwen towards the door that led to the bathrooms, and for a second she thought he was going to lead her through it, but then he switched direction at the last second and dragged her towards another door that was a few metres off to the left. The sign on it said 'Staff Only' and Gwen was beginning to say something in protest, but he'd already reached the door and pushed it open. She barely had time to glance round to see if anybody had noticed them before he dragged her through after him.

On the other side of the door the lush décor of the theatre gave way to a plain corridor with grey brick walls and a concrete floor. There was a mop standing in a bucket leaning against the wall and a trolley of cleaning equipment on one side of the corridor, and Gwen realised this must be where all the maintenance equipment was kept for after the theatre was closed. Barty was leading her further down the corridor towards where she could see break in the wall from which another corridor branched off, and as she saw the eager smile on his face she began work out what he might be thinking. She wasn't sure if she wanted to smile as well or not. Although there was something quite reckless and romantic about this, she was much more concerned about them getting caught here than he was.

She was just about to suggest that this maybe wasn't such a good idea when he stopped walking and suddenly turned to kiss her. She was completely taken aback at first and wasn't sure how to react, but then she gave a faint moan of pleasure and opened her mouth to kiss him back vigorously. She let him back her up against the wall and lifted her right leg to wrap around his hip. He seemed to like that, and growled into her mouth as his left hand went to her thigh, slipping underneath the hem of her dress and stroking the skin underneath.

_God, that feels good, _Gwen thought, but then remembered where they were and pulled her lips back from him in panic. "Barty, wait," she muttered, putting a hand on his chest to stop him leaning in to try and carry on. "You can't be serious! Not here. What if we get caught?"

"We won't get caught," he said with a smirk, "Come on, Gwen. It's not half as fun if there's no risk involved."

She looked at him uncertainly for a few more seconds, but then he tried to resume the kiss and she made no attempt to stop him. Instead, she moved one hand to the back of his head to press him closer to her and the other one wandered down his back. He was right, she thought. This was perhaps one of the riskiest things she'd ever done, and actually she was quite enjoying it.

Barty suddenly moved his lips away from hers and began to kiss down the side of her neck. As she felt him lightly nipping at the skin with his teeth she gave a gasp and closed her eyes, and then he picked a spot just underneath he right ear and began to suck on it. The sensation felt wonderful. _He's wonderful, _Gwen thought.

Even though everything Sander had said to her was still in the back of her mind, right now she didn't want to think about that. She couldn't even entertain the notion that there might be something bad about Barty when he was being like this with her. He must have been bored out of his mind the entire evening, she realised, but he was trying not to show it. And he was doing it for her. The thought of that made a warm feeling spread through her chest, and she felt a rush of affection towards him. Maybe she was going to have to seriously think about what Sander had said to her at some point, but not right now. She couldn't let thoughts like that into her head while she and Barty were doing this.

She gasped again as she felt his warm lips press harder on her neck and his left hand squeezed her thigh, and she let her own hand run further down his back and over his hips, and then round to cup the curve of his arse. He gave a growl of pleasure and pressed his entire body closer to her, and she relished the feel of him pressed against her and the heat radiating off his skin.

Gwen was starting to think she didn't mind so much if the missed the next half of the performance to carry on with this, but just at that point she heard the sound of footsteps approaching them from round the turn in the corridor and she tensed up in panic. Barty heard them too and he felt Gwen suddenly stiffen, but his own reaction was just one of amusement. He took his lips away from her neck to gaze at her face, and saw she was looking at him with wide eyes. He gave her a mischievous grin and moved his left hand to press a finger to her lips. "Shh," he whispered, while reaching into his pocket with his right hand for his wand.

Gwen saw him raise it and silently cast a spell so that a haze of faint white light appeared in the air. He lowered his wand again just as a man appeared round the corner leading off the corridor. The wizard had short grey hair and was wearing the burgundy robes that were the uniform of the Ourea's staff, and he walked straight over to the cleaning trolley without seeming to have noticed them. He looked a little irritated and was muttering to himself as he poked his wand at the mop and the bucket so that it began to levitate in front of him. "I told them there was a poltergeist in the plumbing," he grumbled, "But did they do anything about it? Of course not. And now it's only gone and burst the pipes half way through a performance. Water bloody everywhere." He was still mumbling complaints under his breath as he wheeled the trolley back in the direction he'd come in with the mop and bucket floating in front of it.

Gwen and Barty waited until the sound of the trolley rattling had almost faded completely, and then Barty stepped back from Gwen and flashed her a grin. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Disillusionment charm," he replied, "He had no idea we were here. Anyway," he said, reaching out to take hold of her hand. "I suppose we ought to be getting back now if you want to see the rest of the performance."

"Oh, um, yeah," Gwen said, a little flustered, and as she took hold of his hand with her left one she used the other to try and smooth down her dress. He watched her for a couple of seconds, and smirked as he noticed the purplish mark that was beginning to form on the side of her neck. She would be so mad with him if she knew he'd done that, but he wasn't going to tell her.

"Alright, come on then," he said when she was finished, and he led her back out towards the bar area and the auditorium so they could find their way back to their seats.

-oOo-

After the performance had ended Gwen and Barty found themselves standing in the foyer of the theatre, while everybody around them who wasn't disapparating queued up to use the fireplaces. Gwen was smiling at Barty, holding his hand again like she had done earlier. She'd found that she'd thoroughly enjoyed the evening and was so glad that Barty was speaking to her again. In fact, he didn't seem to still be mad at her in the slightest, and tonight of all nights she wasn't going to spoil things by bringing up any of what Sander or Martijn had said. "So, how did you find the second half?" she asked him.

"Um, better than the first half," he replied, still not sounding incredibly enthusiastic.

Gwen gave a disappointed shake of her head. "Oh," she sighed, "Sorry that this evening's been so boring for you, Barty. I honestly thought this might be something you'd like."

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, can't say I was too keen on the opera, but the evening's not exactly been boring," he said, flashing her a grin.

Gwen blushed in response. "Oh, um, good. So, what now?"

"Well, I suppose I could take you home," he said, sounding completely serious, and then chuckled slightly at Gwen's crestfallen expression. "But I've already told your dad I'll be keeping you until tomorrow, _and _I have a room booked at the Circe Hotel in Mayfair. So, we could always go there."

She looked pleased initially, but then her smile faltered and her expression turned into one of worry. He noticed the change and frowned. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked.

"Barty," she said sincerely, "_Please _tell me you have not been living in a hotel room ever since you moved out."

He couldn't help but give a frustrated scowl. Although he could understand her being worried, he wished she'd just accept what he'd told her and not ask so many questions. It was easier when he didn't have to lie to her directly. "Gwen," he said with a sigh, "Please don't worry yourself about that. I've got everything sorted."

She still didn't looked convinced. "But if you haven't got anywhere to stay then…"

"Gwen," he said again to cut her off, "I promise I've got everything under control, I just thought I'd treat you to a night in a luxury hotel."

"So you're not…" she began again, but he continued talking.

"And it's the money _you _made me on the markets that paid for the room upgrade, so I think you deserve to enjoy this."

She stopped talking then and looked at him, trying to work out if she should just do as he said and try and enjoy herself, or continue worrying. "Ok," she responded, "That does sound nice. But where _are _you staying, exactly?"

Damn it, why did she have to keep asking? "I'm sorting something out with a landlord in Camden," he replied, which was as vague and close to the truth as possible.

Gwen still looked worried. "And are you sure everything is alright? Because if not…"

"Yes, I'm _sure_," he said, beginning to sound a little exasperated. "Now this is supposed to be about you enjoying yourself, so stop worrying about me and try and relax."

Gwen fell silent and bit her lip as she tried to decide whether to push the matter, but then gave a nod. "Alright," she said, "But if there is a problem promise you'll tell me."

"Promise," he answered, barely giving any thought as to whether or not he meant it. Which he probably didn't.

Gwen smiled at him, seeming to decide that was good enough for her. "Right, well then, if you're sure. So what's the Circe like then? I've never even heard of that one before."

"Well, why don't I show you," he replied, grinning as he draped an arm round her shoulders and the pair of them disapparated.

**A/N: Quite a bit more romance for you there. Actually, I think the only purpose of this chapter was to have a bit more romance and smut, but something might happen very soon to disrupt all that. I think I'm going to be starting volume three in a couple of chapters' time, so I'll leave you all guessing how I'm going to end this.**

**And, of course, a huge thank you goes to all of my reviewers for taking the time to read and review this.**

**Since dwatlaskrhtcm asked, regarding the YouTube video:**

**The clips with David Tennant are from: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Blackpool, Secret Smile and Doctor Who.**

**The clips with Charlotte Wessels are from the Delain music videos for April Rain, See Me In Shadow, Stay Forever and Frozen, and also a couple of interview clips.**

**And for Musicunderground about the plane: Concorde, top speed Mach 2.04 (just under 700 metres per second). First flight in 1969, decommissioned in 2003 after one of them crashed in France. Could fly from London to New York in half an hour. Awesome plane, I used to have a poster of one in my bedroom :) **


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I feel awful for taking so long to update, I think this is the longest I've ever gone without uploading a new chapter. I've just been so much busier than I was expecting this past couple of weeks, what with A-Level results coming in and sorting uni stuff out. Anyway, here's the final chapter of this volume. I'll try and get the next one started as soon as possible, but I'm not sure when that'll be. When I start uni I'll probably have barely any time for writing at all, so really sorry in advance if the updates start to become really infrequent. I'm not giving up on this though; I fully intend to finish it.**

**Part Two, Chapter Thirty**

When Barty had told her the hotel was in Mayfair Gwen had been expecting something luxurious, and she wasn't too sure what to think when he apparated with her to just outside what appeared to be a rather ordinary looking office block. The building was just off a main street and Gwen could see muggle traffic driving past the road end, but there'd been nobody around to see them apparate. Looking up at it, Gwen could see no lights were on in any of the windows and it appeared to be locked up for the night. She gave a slight frown, unsure as to whether this was where they were supposed to be or not. Noticing her slightly puzzled expression, Barty gave her a grin as they crossed to the doors, which he opened with a wave of his wand and a muttered, "_Alohomora_." Then he pushed the door open and stood to one side to allow her in, grinning as he said, "Ladies first."

They entered the building and Gwen looked around at the dark lobby. It really did appear to be just a muggle office block, and she couldn't work out how they were supposed to be getting to the hotel. "Okay, Barty, where are we going?" she asked as they crossed the lobby towards the lifts opposite the entrance.

"You'll see," he replied with a wink, not giving her any further explanation as he punched the button for the lift. It arrived and the pair of them stepped inside and waited for the doors to close.

Gwen looked at Barty with an eyebrow raised, still rather perplexed, and he grinned at her as he waved his wand over the panel with the buttons for the floors. The buttons for levels twelve and thirteen slowly inched apart from each other and another button with "12.5" stamped in the middle of it materialised between them.

Finally understanding, Gwen made an, "Oh," sound as Barty pressed the button for the additional floor.

The lift began to move smoothly upwards and Barty took hold of Gwen's hand and gave it a squeeze, before the doors slid open again to allow them out into the foyer of the Circe Hotel.

Now this was more like what Gwen had been expecting. The floor was made of smooth black marble and in front of them was a check-in desk made of polished granite with a glass top. The walls were white plaster, and looking up Gwen could see Greco-Roman patterns on the coving and murals of wizarding mythology on the ceiling. Despite being impressed by it all, she still couldn't help but worry about how on earth Barty had managed to afford it. He'd told her he was using the money she'd made him from buying stocks on his behalf, but she knew that hadn't been all that much and there was always the risk that the markets would take an unfavourable turn and he'd lose that money very quickly. She really hoped he hadn't spent a completely stupid amount coming here, but the more she looked round the more she began to suspect that was the case.

And if he couldn't afford to stay here on a regular basis, where _had _he been living these past couple of weeks?

She didn't particularly want to bring it up while they were checking in and the receptionist was there listening, but she decided she was going to make a point saying something once they'd got to their room. No matter what he said to her, she still couldn't help but worry about him. However, as they reached the room and Barty opened the door to the suite to lead her inside she barely had time to even register what the room looked like, let alone say anything, before he'd suddenly shut the door behind them and pressed his lips to hers again.

She made an initial noise of surprise and then kissed him back enthusiastically. She still wanted to talk to him, but now they were on their own she wasn't exactly going to try to stop him doing this.

He pulled her over towards the bed – not exactly trying to rush, but there was something about his movements that was rather insistent. He kept his lips locked on hers as he gently pushed her towards the edge of the bed, and as she began to lie back on it she pulled him down on top of her. He had his hands on her hips and hadn't started trying to undress her yet, so she took the initiative and reached up to undo his bow tie. As she made the movement his tongue was still deep inside her mouth, but she felt him give a slight moan of protest and he suddenly pulled back from her.

It was quite a sudden movement from him and Gwen immediately worried that she'd done something wrong. The evening had been going great so far and she couldn't think what had prompted him to do that. He was still kneeling on the bed over her and she searched his face for any sign of what the problem was, but his expression seemed fairly neutral and she couldn't work it out. "Just a second," he murmured, before reaching inside his jacket to take out his wand.

Realising he intended to turn the lights out again, Gwen suddenly reached a hand out to close around his and forced him to lower the wand. "You, er…you know you don't have to," she muttered shyly, blushing bright red but at the same time resolved that if this relationship was going anywhere they couldn't keep doing this in the dark. She trusted him. Or at least she _wanted _to trust him, and maybe that was why she was doing this.

He just stared at her for a couple of seconds, seemingly taken aback. "Really? You're sure you're alright with that?"

She bit her lip nervously and then nodded. "Yes."

He remained silent for a few moments, as if trying to decide what he wanted to do. It occurred to her that she hadn't asked him if _he _was okay with it and was about to say something, but then he smiled at her. "Alright," he said, leaning down again and pressing another kiss to her lips but pulling away again quickly. "Just give me five minutes," he said as he got up off the bed and walked over towards the door to the bathroom, which he closed behind him without looking at her.

Gwen stared after him for a couple of seconds, beginning to worry that maybe she'd given him the wrong answer. He hadn't exactly seemed irritated by or uncomfortable with her response, but there seemed to be something a little off about his reaction to it. Still, if he did have a problem with it he would surely have said something – he wasn't the kind to hide what he was really thinking.

Gwen sighed and laid back down on the bed, feeling her stomach begin to squirm with nerves. Everything about the evening had been great so far, and she really didn't want anything to go wrong now. Despite their argument the other day and despite how much worry he kept causing her, she still loved being around him. But that didn't stop her feeling nervous.

With another sigh she got up off the bed and crossed to the window. The curtains were still open, and looking out she could see the twinkling lights of the city below. London was a busy place, and she vaguely wondered if anybody below might happen to be looking up at her right now. Then she remembered this floor was probably invisible to muggles from the outside. She stared out at the lights of the traffic below, trying to distract herself from the fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach, but there really wasn't much to hold her attention very long. Just as she was about to turn away from the window and draw the curtains when something caught her attention.

On the outside window ledge, just the other side of the glass, was a beetle. If it had just been an ordinary looking beetle she would probably have thought nothing of it at all, but she noticed that this one was rather peculiar looking. Perhaps not the most interesting thing in the world, but it was something to concentrate on while she waited for Barty to finish in the bathroom. Bending closer to the glass, she squinted her eyes slightly to get a better look at it and block out the reflection from inside the room. It was quite large, for a beetle, and emerald green in colour. Gwen thought she could make out strange spotted markings on its head, but just as she was leaning even closer to get a better look a sudden movement on the other side of the glass caused her to jump back in shock.

A rat had appeared on the window ledge outside, seemingly having leapt from one of the drainpipes running down the outside of the building. The beetle scarpered, flying off just as the rat landed right next to where it had been sitting. Once Gwen had recovered from the initial shock of the rat appearing from nowhere, she leant closer to the window again and gave it a scowl. She hated rats. And what the hell was it doing here anyway? It wasn't like rats were the kind of creature that normally scaled twelve storeys of a building for no apparent reason. As she continued to frown at it she noticed that one of its front toes was missing, and she wondered if it had perhaps escaped from a bird's nest that was somewhere on the building above them. Perhaps some crow or something had taken it home for food and bitten one of its toes off, and then…

Actually, she didn't want to think about that. Her stomach was squirming enough as it was without her squeamishness adding to the sensation. Shooting the rat one final glare, she drew the curtains and then went to sit back down on the bed. She'd only been there a couple of seconds when the bathroom door opened again and Barty walked out, with his bow tie undone and the top few buttons of his shirt open. He'd taken his suit jacket off and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair before crossing over to the bed. "Sorry. Anyway, where were we?" he said as he leaned in to kiss her again.

He'd been smiling as he said it, but for some reason Gwen felt a sudden sense of unease come over her. She couldn't even specify why, but as his lips met hers again she suddenly tensed up. He noticed she didn't respond, keeping her mouth firmly closed, and he pulled back a few inches and gave her a concerned look. "Gwen?"

As quickly as it had come on the feeling passed, and Gwen wondered why she'd even felt it at all. "Sorry," she muttered, not giving him any time to respond before she began kissing him again.

He seemed quite happy to let her carry on and pushed his tongue forward to explore deeper inside her mouth. As she lay back down on the bed he climbed on top of her so that his knees were either side of her thighs, and she moved her hands to his back to pull him even closer to her. He kicked his shoes off and then lowered himself down even further so that she could feel his weight pressing down on top of her.

This felt good. Once again, she found she was putting off talking to him about something important, but when they were both enjoying something this much it could wait. He pulled back from her lips ever so slightly as he sat up again, pulling her with him as he moved his hands over her shoulders and down her back. She felt him fiddling with the fastenings on her dress, trying to get it off, and when he didn't manage it in a few seconds he made a noise of irritation and scowled. "How the fuck does that work?" he muttered, and Gwen saw his cheeks colour slightly as instead he moved his hand down her leg to pull off her shoes.

She gave a slight chuckle as she bent her leg round his hip to make it easier for him. "Hook and eye and a zip. It's not that hard," she said, teasing him as she wrapped her hands round the back of his neck and pulled his face closer to hers again. He didn't say anything, but made a slightly disgruntled noise in response as they resumed kissing. She let her left hand move up to run through his hair while she returned the other one to his chest and began to unbutton the rest of his shirt. He hadn't tried to undo her dress again, seemingly still embarrassed about having not managed it the first time, and let her unfasten his shirt and pull it off his shoulders. They continued kissing as Gwen helped Barty untangle his arms from the material, both of them with their eyes closed, still shy despite having agreed to leave the lights on. As it finally came off and Gwen tossed it to the floor Barty returned his hands to her back, trying to undress her again. She was taken by surprise as she felt some kind of material brush against her skin, and she opened her eyes and drew back from him slightly, trying to see what it was.

As he noticed she was pulling away he opened his eyes too and looked at her with a slightly worried expression, returning his hands to her waist as he realised she wasn't close enough to reach round any more. She glanced down at his left arm, and felt a sudden rush of horror as she saw the bandage wrapped round it. Wide eyed, she glanced back up at his face, and as she noticed his uncomfortable expression the sense of unease she'd felt earlier returned. "Barty," she said apprehensively, "What's that?"

He very quickly tried to hide his worried expression with one of nonchalance. "It's nothing," he replied, and she could tell his casual tone was forced, "Don't worry about it. It isn't important." He tried to stop her asking anything further by shutting her up with a kiss, put she put up a hand to stop him leaning any closer.

"No, seriously, Barty. What did you do to it?" she asked firmly, definitely worried by what she'd seen. If he'd hurt himself then she definitely had reason to be worried, but what was bothering her even more was why he seemed to be trying to hide it.

He stared at her for a few seconds, seemingly annoyed that she was asking, but then sighed. "I spilt revealant potion on it at work. Got burnt a bit, that's all," he said, trying to brush it off. "It's not bothering me."

She raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "Really?"

He gave a hollow laugh, but Gwen thought there seemed to be a slight sense of panic in it, "Look Gwen, I know my father's a bastard, but he's hasn't been quite so horrible that he's driven me to slashing my wrists, if that's what you're thinking."

She just looked at him, still with an uneasy expression and not returning the almost-reassuring smile he was trying to give her. That wasn't what she'd been thinking. She wasn't even sure _what _thought exactly had crossed her mind, but she suddenly had a very strong sense that she needed to get away from him. Part of her – actually, a very largepart of her – didn't want to. She wanted to make sure he was alright and check that he hadn't hurt himself too badly, but something was telling her that something was wrong. Although she was concerned about him, she knew it wouldn't be wise to let on to him what she was really thinking.

"Alright," she said quietly, sounding much less calm than she'd intended. He took that as an all clear and tried starting to kiss her again, but again she pulled away. She leant forward a little apprehensively to briefly press her lips to his, hoping that would appease him for now, and then drew back from him. "Sorry, I think I need five minutes too," she said, getting up off the bed and crossing to the bathroom. She didn't look at him, but heard the sound of movement behind her. For a moment she felt a rush of panic as she thought he might try and stop her, but then she heard him sigh and sit back down on the bed.

She still didn't look at him as she closed the bathroom door, and then let out a shuddering breath as she turned around to stare at herself in the mirror. She wasn't really taking in the image, instead letting the last minute replay in her mind. Dozens of different explanations were running through her head, and although she knew the real reason could be perfectly innocent she couldn't stop herself fearing the worst. Martijn's words kept coming back to her, no matter how much she tried to stop them, _"De Koning was the last person you'd expect to be a Death Eater…" _Why was she thinking of that? That wasn't even relevant.

Except she couldn't shake the awful feeling that maybe it was. She knew how Death Eaters marked themselves; it had been reported in the _Prophet _plenty of times – a Dark Mark tattoo on the inside of the left arm. It would be just in the spot Barty had covered up, and she couldn't stop herself from jumping to conclusions.

Even so, she knew it was a ridiculous notion. There wasn't any reason for her to doubt that he'd just burnt himself with revealant potion - that was used a lot in dark magic investigations and it wasn't exactly implausible that he'd spilt some. But she also got the sense that he was hiding something.

She already knew he'd hidden stuff from her before: lying about why he wanted a loan, and when she'd thought she'd found out the truth about that there'd been the incident with Sander's auroscope. If it turned out that he _was _hiding a Dark Mark on his arm, then she had to admit it made sense. She was desperately trying to think of a reason for it not to, but the more she tried to recall a time when she _had _seen his arm clearly without a tattoo she realised she hadn't. If the flippant remark he'd made about slashing his wrists were true then even that would be preferable to what she was starting to suspect. But it wasn't possible, was it?

Was it?

The more Gwen thought about it the more she realised it wasn't quite as ridiculous as she'd assumed. It explained everything: the loan, the auroscope, the secretiveness…but still she didn't want to believe it. Everything made sense _except _for the way he treated her. All she knew about Death Eaters just didn't hold true with what she knew about Barty. Death Eaters were supposed to be cruel and heartless, but Barty wasn't like that. Maybe he was a little irritable, and he held grudges and liked pissing people off, but he wasn't downright bad. He'd never been anything but perfectly kind towards her, and the more she thought of that the more she felt bad about being so mistrusting of him.

But that didn't get rid of the sense of unease that had settled on her.

As Gwen tried to collect her thoughts together she drew in a deep breath and tried to focus on her reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back looked tired and worried – smudged make up and messed up hair, tired eyes, and a skinny frame that seemed to be shaking ever so slightly. _How could Barty possibly have thought I looked beautiful? _she thought to herself, but it occurred to her that he had seemed to genuinely mean it when he'd told her that earlier. The thought of that only made her feel worse for being suspicious of him. She was repaying him for being nice to her by showing him complete mistrust, and she knew she didn't have much reason to. She was basing her suspicions almost entirely on the fact that he'd covered up his left arm, and that wasn't really much to go on, was it? Everything she knew about him just didn't fit with what she knew about Death Eaters.

Maybe she really was just being stupid, but just as she considered that she noticed a small purplish mark on the side of her neck as she stared at her reflection. Frowning, she turned her head to the side and leant closer to the mirror to get a better look. Was that…? Oh fuck. Barty had done that. And he hadn't told her. Well, maybe that was one argument to suggest he wasn't quite as sweet as he seemed, but it was still something utterly trivial. It didn't exactly support the notion of him being a Death Eater, did it?

Gwen let out a sigh as she tried to calm herself down. Why was she panicking over this? Surely it would be better to just talk to him to try and get him to be honest with her. Except that every time she tried he kept avoiding her questions. Damn it, he wasn't making it easy for her to not be suspicious, even though she really wanted to be able to trust him. She didn't want to believe he was a Death Eater. She couldn't believe it. It just didn't make sense.

Trying to rationalise the situation wasn't helping. What was she going to do now? Go back out there and carry on as if nothing happened? Or try to find out the truth? Either way, she was going to have to face up to him. She'd left her wand in her bag which was on the floor beside the bed, so she couldn't disapparate out of here even if she wanted to. Just avoiding him wasn't going to be an option, but she'd not really wanted to do that anyway. She had to find out exactly what was going on, and although the logical part of her mind was trying to convince her her suspicions were unfounded, she couldn't stop herself from being scared. Would it be better to confront him, or try and pretend everything was alright?

As she tried to reach a decision as to what to do, she turned on the tap and washed off her make up as best she could, before unpinning her hair. She knew she was just trying to put off the inevitable, but she couldn't stay in here forever. When she was done she turned back to the door and rather timidly opened it, biting her lip nervously as she looked out onto the other side.

Barty was sat on the edge of the bed, and it was obvious he'd been sat watching the door waiting for her to come back. "Sorry," she said, giving him an uneasy smile but trying to act naturally. She crossed to the bed to stand in front of him, not really sure what to do now. Should she just carry on and pretend everything was normal?

Her decision was made for her as Barty suddenly stood up and reached out to firmly grip her shoulders. She immediately stiffened at his touch, but relaxed slightly as she looked up into his face and saw such an earnest expression of affection there. His eyes almost seemed to be pleading with her to trust him, and she felt her suspicions waver. Surely no Death Eater could possibly give her a look like that.

"Barty…" she whispered, and he quickly put a finger to her lips to stop her saying any more.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he muttered quietly. "What I said was stupid. I didn't mean to trivialise something serious, but I just don't want you worrying about me. I'm fine. Don't think about me anymore now. I just want this evening to be about you, so please just try and relax and have fun."

Gwen looked up at him and studied his face carefully, trying to work out if what he was saying was what he was really thinking. Honestly, she couldn't tell. He could have genuinely meant that, or he could just have been trying to avoid telling her anything again. Nerves were still gripping her and she gave a small shake of her head. "Barty, no. You can't tell me something like that and expect me to just go along with it. Of course I'm going to worry about you. If you've burnt yourself just let me have a look at it, make sure it's alright. I'll feel much better if you do." She was trying to sound caring, but really she was just more desperate to find out if her had in fact been lying to her.

She moved her right hand to take hold of his left arm, but he suddenly snatched it away from her. For a second she thought she saw his eyes flash with anger, but then his pleading expression returned. "Gwen, no, really. It's fine," he said insistently.

"Well, just let me look," she said again, reaching out for his arm. His reluctance to show her was making her even more nervous, but she had to know the truth.

"Gwen, stop it," he snapped, and as she touched his arm he suddenly brought his right hand up to grab hold of her wrist and push it away. The movement took her by surprise and she let out a slight gasp as his fingers closed round her wrist. He had a hard look in his eyes and was gripping her rather tightly, tight enough for it to hurt. As she looked up at him panic suddenly washed over her. He was giving her an angry glare, without a trace of the affection that had been there a moment ago, and it scared her.

This wasn't like him. This wasn't the Barty she was familiar with, and she suddenly realised she was terrified. Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong.

"Barty, please…" she whispered, struggling to get the words out, and at the evident fear in her voice she suddenly felt his grip go slack. Gazing up into his eyes she saw his expression soften. For a moment he looked disgusted with himself for hurting her, but then he drew in a deep breath and let go of her arm.

He looked down at her for a moment, seeming to be trying to reach a decision with himself. Still unnerved, Gwen didn't say anything, but instead waited to see what he would do next. She didn't think he was going to hurt her, but she knew he could be about to do something else that was just as bad.

A few seconds passed in silence before he spoke again, reaching his left arm out to her as he did so.

"Go on then," he growled softly, speaking it almost as if it were a challenge. "If it means that much to you, take the bandage off."

**A/N: Yes, I'm leaving it there. This is your season finale cliffhanger, I suppose. There's a bit of a twist to come next time though, because I plan on more or less re-writing this chapter but from Barty's POV. That might make things a bit more interesting. **

**Sorry if this chapter felt a bit disjointed at times. It's been really difficult to write because I've not had any time to just sit down and write it all in one go, so I had to do this in lots of little bits. I'm worried it doesn't really flow properly, or it jumps around and not everything's explained properly, so if I get chance I'm going to go over it and try and improve it. For now though I'm going to try and focus on getting new stuff written.  
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**I've worked out how I'm going to to divide this story up into different sections, so I'm going to make this the last chapter of volume two because there's a new plot arc opening up in the next one now that Gwen and Barty's circumstances have quite clearly changed dramatically. I think I may make a point of ending each volume on a cliffhanger until we get to the end (or not... we'll see ;) ).  
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**Again, I apologise for leaving you three weeks without an update. I'm really going to try and make sure I get the next part up sooner than that this time. Huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you're all awesome and if I could send you all a giant thank you cake I would!**


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